


Misfortune

by Mac192



Category: BioShock 1 & 2 (Video Games)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-10-27 23:24:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 37,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20768672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mac192/pseuds/Mac192
Summary: Charlie escapes to the underworld, trying to lead a more rewarding life, but once trouble had found her, she can't seem to shake it off. OCxSinclairxJohnnyx ? ? ?





	1. Chapter 1

Authors note:

The first two chapters are by far the most boring, but please don't let this put you off! And I know some detail won't be 100%, but that's whats make's it less predictable…

Chapter One: Prologue.

Heavy backpack, fumes in the air, tired feet. No, I cannot say that I was particularly fit, or strong for that matter, but I always thought that if I push myself and took the harder route, it would help in the long run. It hasn't yet. It was as if my body was telling me, what you see is what you get, and theres no changing that. I, of course, have a small build. Determination wasn't going to change that.

Reaching the apartment building, taking my time fumbling with my keys to enjoy the sweet blissful relief I was getting, before trudging up six flights of stairs. Inside the building, soft yellows and creams covered the walls, contrasting the grey outside world. England, rarely, was ever depicted as a bright, colourful place; they're not wrong. The old architecture, bleak skies, and tight town streets, collecting gas emissions and keeping out the sun, freezes time, holding an ageing place in time, as the cities grew and boomed. That was something I appreciated though. It was beautiful.

I am a second year university student, and still, I feel like I don't know nearly enough as I should in order to start a career, make discoveries, understand the in workings of our planet. Will I ever know enough? Is there any point?

The past two World Wars involved soldiers fighting for their countries. Using hand-held weapons and living off what little they could have. Land and conquering was what mattered. But if another war was to begin…it'll be nothing live we have ever had. Sometimes I fear that there might not be a tomorrow. Hiroshirma is an example of that. The homes of so many people gone, but that was only a handful of years ago now…the bombs they make now are so much bigger.

I reached my floor and entered the apartment. Inside was warm. I walked passed the fridge, noticing a small note on it from mum:

Charlie,

Exchanged shifts with Benny, so I'm working

a 12hr today, won't be back till 6 tomorrow

morning.

We have ingredients for pasta if you

like.

Lots of Love

Mum.

Mums a nurse, always working odd shifts. Dad however, is on holiday with his new girlfriend in France. 'All the women love France' Dad once said after taking one of his previous ladies to France. The people working at his favourite restaurant probably know him too well now. It's always the same move. Has it worked?

Nope.

After unpacking my notes and books onto my bed, I went to cook dinner. I wasn't particularly gifted in cooking, but if I focus on sticking to the instructions, I MIGHT be able to get a decent meal.

Take that society, a women who can't cook.

********After Dinner********

Sitting on the couch, I tucked my legs underneath me and flicked onto the news and what I saw I almost couldn't comprehend.

BREAKING NEWS:

Paris booming: Firefighters and Ambulances are not enough:

Unknown suspects: Unknown survivors

Images of screaming people. Some fleeing, some helping others. Fire engines circle around the heart of the blaze.

I was stunned.

Maybe I should ring Dads cell phone number. They were probably at the hotel, packing to come back to England soon, but their flights will surely be delayed now. I stumbled to my feet, then as mechanically as ever, made my way over to the kitchen phone, stabbing each key in, and bringing the receiver up to my ear, breathing shakily.

*RING RING***RING RING****RI—

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP

The tone stretched out.

I shuddered. Hung up, rang again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

After hanging up once more I almost screamed. My eye stung. I couldn't breath properly. I was ready to dial again when the phone rang instead. I picked up.

"H-hello?" I had to clear my voice.

"Oh sweetie are you ok? Have you seen the news?"

It was mum.

"Yea…"

"Its all over the hospital! I tried calling your father and nothing. Have you tried?"

I looked up at the clock.

"I've been trying to for the past 20 minutes."

"He's….He has probably just left his phone off again…"

"You alright mum?"

"Of course, just checking on you. I've got patients waiting, better go, love you. And let me know if you get hold of him."

I didn't know what to think. I was numb inside. So numb that it actually hurt to not feel anything. The TV was still playing in the background. I closed my eyes. Took a breath. Felt the sway of the world spinning around me. I exhaled, feeling nauseated as the world span faster and faster. Overwhelming in fact. Static filled my ears, roaring.

I opened my eyes. Blinked. Everything was calm and I was okay. I turned the TV off, shut off all the lights, and went to bed, and slept the whole night through. It was dreamless.

I woke, got up, went into the bathroom, washed my face, got dressed, went into the kitchen.

And stopped.

Mum was sitting on the couch, still in uniform, handbag at her feet, looking down. My stomach dropped. Mouth dry.

I turned around and put the jug on before heading back towards her, saying nothing, but sitting beside her.

I was not very good at this comforting sort of stuff, nor was I good at mourning. I just suppress it and forget it, hoping it doesn't comeback to me in a big hurricane.

And so in silence we sat, until the shrill of the jug - followed by the 'all done' ping, cut the silence in the air. I got up, made myself a coffee, and mum a sweetened tea. The first movement from her, was her accepting the tea, gripping the mug, whitening her knuckles. I was worried she could break it. More silence followed.

Mum and Dad were high school sweethearts. Had me at 19 years of age. Dad studied computer programming full time, while mum studied part time at nursing school. Against the odds, they made it work; me, mum and dad, together. At least it was fine until halfway through Elementary. Dad was growing bored with the relationship and craved something more… I don't know. 'fun'? But of course someone had to always be there for me. If Dad had it his was, he would have taken me out of school, and we would halve explored the world together. Dad always promised me of all the adventures we could have had. At such a young age, I was easily turned against Mum, but Mum was the realist. The sensible one. She knew that if we took me out of school and left, we would run out of money, I would be uneducated and doomed for a future, and all of us would be poor and miserable.

So Dad gambled. Not a lot, and we never really suffered for it. Not financially anyway. But the friends he made. The women he met. He became so distant. It was his way of still getting the kicks in life.

Whenever Dad looked after me and Mum was working, he would teach me card games like poker, and tell me stories. One of them was about a man named Andrew Ryan. A very rich man who rumoured to have built a city under the sea. A city, called Rapture. Oh how I wished I could go, and when I asked how to get there, Dad said if I could beat him in one game of cards, he'd tell me.

And you know what? I won.

He told me, Rapture is west of Iceland, and that Andrew Ryan wanted to escape the upper world, the societies expectations and create a free utopia. But it was also to be kept secret from the world as he fear it would be ruined. You either had to know Ryan to get in, or be smuggled.

Much younger me would marvel at the idea of this. I would ask how he knew, and if he knew, why did no one else know. He tapped his nose grinning. "A friend, of a friend, of a friend, of a friend."

This 'friend' was working for a man named Frank Fontaine. He of the largest criminal empires on earth, and could smuggle you in… for a price.

Where can I find this Frank Fontaine? That's when Mum came home, sending me off to bed and telling Dad off for teaching me his 'gambling ways'.

Dad was never a bad father. But it was too young for him to become a father. And so he would yearn for what he missed out on.

Because of Me.

Eventually he left. Mum never told him to leave, but she sure made it look like that was what she wanted. Only it wasn't. She never stopped loving him. She just didn't want to trap him any longer than she already had.

"Charlie…" Mums weak voice broke my thoughts.

"Mmmm?"

"I don't want to stay here anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to leave. Leave the city. No. The country."

"Why?"

"Because that's all you father wanted me to do. There were always plans for adventures that would never happen….and…" she sighed sadly, "… It's late. But it's better than never."

I contemplated what this meant? I remember well enough Dad's desire to conquer the world, I imagine that if it weren't for me, that what the would've done. "Where would we go?"

"We? No sweetie. Just me." She shakes her head.

I almost choked at what she just said, stunned. "You want to leave me?"

"You need to finish your studies. Im leaving tomorrow."

"You're just leaving me, like that. What about work and ME! Why?"

Mum place her still full mug on the coffee table, standing up and heading towards her room.

"MUM!" I yelled, heat radiating from my face and core. When she didn't reply, I tried again, "mum?"

"You're 20, you can look after yourself."

"That's not the point" I say as my voice cracked. My heart was breaking, and so was hers.

Tears welled up in Mum's eyes as she looked at me one more time before closing the door. I could hear the key turn afterwards.

Locked.

Somebody, who has only cared for me my whole life, always wanted the better for me, was now shutting me out of their lives? I could see what was happening. Doing one last thing for Dad, without me. To do what they would have, had I not been there to ruin it. I felt sick to my stomach.

I went to my room, shoved my books into my bag, and promptly left for university.

*****That evening******

Flinging myself into the small apartment and chucking my bag to the side, I immediately sensed something was off. Standing and listening, I took in my surroundings. I could hear jazz music upstairs, children's tv shows playing to the right and nothing to the left. All is normal, as there is no tenant to the left. All clear… except for in here. Turning my head knowingly to the fridge, I saw a little pink note was stuck there. I snatch it off reading it.

Charlie,

I hope you understand this someday

and chose to not hate me for this

but I have left today, and have paid

the rent for the next two months in

advance.

Mum.

"WHAT! YOU HAVE LEFT ME! ALONE" tiny pieces of the note dropped from my hand. A nearby chair fell to the floor. Written study notes were thrown up and fell back down like confetti. But I couldn't think. How could I? All I saw was white rage. Rage that stung. Rage that burned. Rage that rang in my ears. She really left me. My own mother. Mother? Mum? Left her daughter?

"Close your eyes" I told myself, tears streaming down my face.

"Firstly, calm the fuck down. You need to control yourself. This isn't the end of the world yet."

I leaned back against the wall and tucked into the corner, head between knees in my hands. I took a moment to just breath. In and out. In and out. In. And my body shuddered. Tears flooded out. My breathe was hot on my hands and my hands were wet. Bringing my face up into the cool air, and wiping my hands on my shirt, I tried again to breath. This time, it worked.

"Secondly, you need to check yourself." I muttered. "You now have no mother," sniff. "No father," I stood up, and walked to the bathroom to face the mess I was. "But you're able to look after yourself." As I washed up, I thought to myself. Where do I want to go from here?

Stay here, you gotta work, study and maintain the apartment. Keep going down the pathway Mum had prepared me for my whole life. A small thought in the back of my mind decide to pipe up.

But you could leave? Find mum, or maybe…..

My thoughts drift too Rapture. Could it be real? But what if…

Snapping my head up, sly grin crossing my face.

"You crazy bastard" the reflection spoke.

It was decided. I would go follow an invisible La La Land, taking with me nothing but the clothes on my back.

"Andrew Ryan, whether you like it or not, you got yourself another citizen."


	2. Halfway There, No Way Back.

Chapter Two: Halfway There, No Way Back.

After stripping, showering, scrubbing my skin raw and soaking myself until the jitters ceased, I slipped into the bedroom, naked and cold, stopping in front of the mirror.

From here, I would dress myself. Build myself up from scratch in preparation for a new beginning. To wipe what I was made to be, and chose a new path, making a new Charlie and leave the old.

Firstly I grabbed my clothes, one to wear, and one to spare. Underwear, t-shirt, jacket, socks and shoes. Done.

In my backpack, I also grabbed a Swiss Army knife we had kept in the kitchen draw, a water bottle, some fruit and some canned food.

"What else… think think think." Hand shaking by my leg as I hunched over, sitting on the side of the bed, knowing there was more to be taken, but having the impulse of a rabbit. To flee.

"Money? Does Rapture even take this currency?"

Nevertheless I grabbed the little I had from my bedside draw anyway, just for the trip up.

As I gathered my things together, the phone rang, starling me. Cautiously, I approached the kitchen, taking the phone into my hand and bringing it up to me ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey Charlie it's Jenny!"

"Oh? Hi!" Jenny was a good friend of mine, one of my only friends really. I had a lot of 'friends' who were more like acquaintances. People you passed by in life to temporary fill that void which would otherwise expand into a mental chamber of solitary confinement, that only you could feel. Only a few had made it into a genuine friendship with me. Jenny was often busy with performances, whether she was in them, or directing them. She was an actress. Small actress, but still a very talented performer if it's all the same. I would go to see most of them, getting VIP passes to the after parties, but not very often does Jenny and I hang out as much - not since we were kids.

"I'm in town, and you won't believe what I have to tell you! But I want to see your face when I tell you! I'm coming over, see you soon."

"See you soon I guess" I was a little shell shocked, feeling a small pang of guilt as I was about to leave without saying goodbye. How was I supposed to know she was back in town…

Unloading my bag back in my room, setting the jug to boil and unlocking the door, I waited patiently for Jenny on the couch. It wasn't long until the door opened revealing my bubbly friend.

"Good, you're sitting down."

"You might want to sit down to by the looks of it" I smirked, feeling warmth from her presence.

"Ha-ha…HA!" Jenny sang, plonking down next to me, nudging my shoulder. "Ok, so you remember what your Dad told you about Rapture…?" Of course I had told Jenny about Rapture. As kids, we would imagine what the city below looked like, and the wonders of living there could hold. Our imaginations would run wild.

"Heh, funny, I was thinking about finding the damn place…" I drift of briefly, guilt from earlier sneaking back into me. "What about it?" I quickly asked.

"It's real!"

My eyebrows went up. "R-really?"

She nodded, "A man working for… Andrew Ryan interviewed me, and said that if I was willing to follow certain procedures and precautions in terms of secrecy, I would be able to obtain a permanent position in the entertainment and theatre community!"

"That's incredible! I'm so proud of you! I told you that you would hit it big someday!" I grinned, reaching my arm around her shoulders, squeezing gently.

"But…" A frown formed on her face as she looked into my eyes.

"But…?"

"But, Rapture is top secret. I'm really not meant to tell you this, but of course I had to." Her voice lowers as she leaned in to tell me. "To go to Rapture, means to leave…everything. And everyone. My family couldn't come, and nor could you…"

I hesitated before responding. Mind racing.

"Do it. I gotta plan" I winked with a sinister smile, sending a ridiculously concerned look over Jenny's face.

"What…also, where's your mum? Work?"

"Well…" I sighed, and proceeded to recount the events of the past twelve hours.

"And you were just going to run away? Without telling me!?" genuine hurt filled her eyes.

"Ummm…I would have called…" that deserved a good punch to the arm.

"There is no contact between the surface and the 'Super Top Secret Underworld'. You of all people should know that."

I shrugged. "I guess I was just so…upset…and you know how rash I get when I'm like that…"

"I know…Well" Jenny started again, sadness growing on your face. "I don't blame you. You're Dad just…" I shake my head, not wanting to talk about it anymore. Jenny sighed, but understood and continued to rational my plans, "…I may not be able get you into Rapture, but I can get you halfway." I leaned in to listen. "When I call to accept, you can be apart of my 'farewell party', getting you to Iceland. Those smugglers you speak of, you'll have to find them and go with them, but I haven't a clue where they are."

"I'll figure it out." I say, with perhaps too much confidence.

"Anyway, let me ring them now." I nodded.

Jenny went for the phone, dialling a number written on her hand, barely having to wait for her offerer to pick up.

"Yes, I have made a decision. I'm in. Yes. Yes. Yes. Excellent. One more thing. You mentioned I could have a farewell party… yes, I would like transportation for them. Yes. Of course. Just my parents and friend. Thank you very much. We'll see you Monday."

I remarked "That was straight forward."

"Yep, well, most of it was explained in person."

"Alright, alright, okay. This is going… to work. But, have you told your parents? Are they ok with this. It's so sudden. You're leaving in three days!"

"I mentioned it, but I hardly see them now. It's just hard to find the time." Jenny briefly became sad before perking up again. "But hey, I have A LOT of packing to do! Wanna help?"

"Umm, help do work? Sounds hard" I joked.

"Come on!" She dragged my arm, I barely had time to lock the door.

We discussed the details, such as me not looking suspicious carrying too much, and disappearing when Jenny's parents went home, "Nothing white lies can't help" Jenny decided, disregarding my fears.

"What if—"

"NO! You can't think about all of the problems that can go wrong. To move forward, you gotta take some risks."

"right…" I sighed. "Now you're sounding like how I was earlier today, and I most properly was not in the best mindset." She laughed at that remark. I continued worked inside my head, trying to get that motivation I had earlier when I just wanted to be rid of this life. I can't back out now. And I won't.

I had dinner with the family, leaving shortly after.

On Monday, I met with Jenny's parents, and together went up to meet Jenny at the airport.

Prior to the big day, I was merely tying loose ends. Talking to the owner of the apartment, telling him I was leaving. Managing to selling a few things such as the couch, bed and dining table at a nearby secondhand store. As for University, I couldn't get any refunds, but I managed to sell my textbooks. I thought about the large loan I had from my studied, and smirked. Can't make me pay off my debit if they can't find me. The money I made from selling what I could gave my wallet a good feel. I don't think I've held this much cash before.

Monday morning, the drive to the airport was long, I felt giddy with joy knowing how close I was, but nervous too. I've sold my life, now more than ever does it count on me getting this new life. Jenny's parents knew I wasn't coming back with them, though they didn't know to the extend of which I was about to be breaking the law. The less they know, the better they can play the part if questioned about my lack of return to the city.

When we approached the private plane, I realised, I've never been on a plane, I should be scared. But I wasn't. That plane was going to take me somewhere new and exciting. Exactly what I've wanted since Dad planted the idea in my head. I clutched my backpack in front of me tightly. Excitement gave me butterflies.

Jenny and I sat together, with her parents adjacent and the man who had interviewed Jenny (whom's name I learned to be Josh Matthews) sat opposite us, writing notes, perhaps an article on Jenny's great adventure to Rapture. As we took off, I nearly fainted as my stomach flipped. Suddenly my excitement was replaced by nervous, and the butterflies in my tummy didn't feel so good anymore. Jenny laughed at my discomfort before grabbing my hand and squeezing, as if to say sorry. I squeezed her hand back. We made small talk for the next three and a half hours, being mildly cautious of our words in front of Josh Matthews, who scribbled in his notebook every so often.

After landing, a limousine took us to the docks, where Jenny was to embark on a stark white Yacht, lined with rosé gold rails. The site was impeccable as the sun broke through the sky, and the ocean surrounding gleamed. First Jenny farewelled her parents, giving each a long hug, telling them how much she would miss them, and how much they would miss her. When she turned to me, though on the outside we farewelled, on the inside, we knew, soon, we would see each other again. That was, if I will be successful. Jenny even wished me a good luck before pulling away.

It was after her departure, did the wind pick up, and a cool breeze snatched away the warmth Jenny had given me moments ago. I snuck away, melting in the shadowed alleyways. I had a mission to complete.

"Where would you hide a smuggling company?"


	3. This Way, That Way

Chapter Three: This Way, That Way

And so I found myself walking between the streets and docks. If this smuggling ring hasn't been busted yet, what makes me think that I could find it? The sun was now descending fast, and I had no links on where I was supposed to be looking.

Pubs begin to open, cafes start too close, the nightlife comes out and twinkling stars above begin to dot the sky. A salty cool breeze sends chills down my spine, causing small shivers. A couple stumble out, giggling and clinging on to each other as they make their way towards town.

Not knowing what else to do, I sat on the edge of the pier, watching the ocean deepen into black, thinking.

"I guess I have enough money for a room…and for dinner tonight…but for how long I don't know." I lick the salt off my lips and exhale.

Perhaps half an hour had past when I had enough of the cold, and made my way over to an emptier looking pub, ordering dinner and treating myself to a deserved whisky. I took my seat faraway in the corner of the room.

Tonight, one bartender worked along with two flirtatious waitresses, darting in and out of the double doors leading to the kitchen. Adjacent to me, a group of four young men drank and joked, watching the football on the tv behind the bar, while one of them often remarked on the waitresses…physique. The waitress often would chuckle, assuming that she was paid to put up with crude comments. I cringe silently at a distance. I know the type of guy too well. Never have understood what goes on in the tiny brains that make them think checking out a womens ass and sharing that a lot is ever okay.

Across the other side of the room were a few more patrons sat enjoying their meals with a friend or other company of sorts. Friendly chatter filled the room and overall, it was a nice atmosphere.

That was until I noticed something brewing. My eyes went back to the group of young men, who were becoming notably louder with the extra alcohol pumping through their veins. I tried to listen in…

"40! FOUR! ZERO? I thought we 'ad agreed 80?" The man speaking was began more distressed as he talked. "Fontaine expect—expects US… TO—"

"Will you be quiet" hushed the other one, gripping his shirt, holding back a laugh. Then in a more hushed voice, which I craned over to listen, "You know the man, he won't 'ave it any other way, unless it involves cutting us, instead of the pay."

"Enjoy what we 'ave!" a third one spoke, followed up by the fourth chipping in.

"We're the only ones in Rapture coming up to the surface like this. Best of the both world's mate."

"Best, huh? You sure about that?" The first man spoke.

"Here's your meal ma'am, would that be all?" I was interrupted by one of the waitresses, eyeing me directly.

"Uhh — yes thanks, this will be all." I smiled politely. When she left, I listened in back on the conversation, but they had moved onto the sport on the tv. But at least I knew one thing. They were my ticket to Rapture.

Much later after the game finished did Fontaines men leave the pub. I left my tip on the table a few minutes after, stepping outside into the breeze, looking and listening to figure out which way they went. In the distance, I could see they had made their way to the other end of the docks. Walking in the shadows as best I could, I tip-toed in their direction.

It appeared that they were boarding a small ship, already crammed with crates and sacks of who knows what. What could they be smuggling into Rapture?

Somehow though, I'm going to have to get on board without being caught. There was only one obvious entrance, washed in yellow from the street light above.

Too obvious.

Crouching behind a dumpster beside a closed cafe, I peered round, looking for another way. No ropes to climb, or crates left to be boarded that I could hide in…

I leaned out further to check the sides of the ship. Shadows concealed most details…but there! A porthole…open? It'll be a giant leap for someone of my height to reach…but it could work. Maybe.

I kept scanning a few minutes for any other routes in, and came up short.

Just as I was about to step out of the shadows, one of the men came out, untied the rope to the pier and used a crank to lift up the anchor. I panicked. My heart stopped for a second and the world span. I've got one shot. One shot. One. Only one.

I. Have. To. Get. This. RIGHT!

The minute the anchor was up, the man shivered, pulling his coat around him and he trudged back inside. I made the dash, only momentarily being in the light before diving into the shadowed pier. There I looked up at the porthole. When I thought 'open', I was hoping for more than a jar.

The ship lurched into movement, backing out of the docks slowly…but not slowly enough.

"Go!" I stepped back, and with all my strength, push all my weight towards the ship, pushing up from the pier, flying up. Reaching my arms out, stretching out my entire body, but soon after the leap, I was falling again. My heart dropped like a weight. I breath in at the last second before managing to hook my hands on the rim of the porthole, swinging the rest of my body down and slamming into the side, knocking the breath right out of me. A painful shudder almost caused my fingers to flex as my whole body shock from the impact, but I had to hold tight.

After hanging for a minute or so, my stomach started churning, twisting and knotting. I felt like I was going to be sick. Using the slight curve of the ship, I pushed my body out, to make it easier to haul my body into the porthole at a more horizontal angle.

My landing was anything but graceful. Head first crashing into a crate, then rolling off onto the cold metal floor.

Head pounding, I slowly sat up and observed where I was. Stacks of crates marked with 'Fontaine Fisheries' surrounded the room, grey floors and a low ceiling stretched across. The room was decent in size and far on the other side of the room were stairs leading up and out.

I must be in the hold.

The crates around me all had lids nailed shut. I could break one open to hide in, but of course they would see the damage…

Looking around, there wasn't much else to see. Rope here, crowbar there. The stability lessened as thunder erupted from outside. Wind burst through the porthole till I stumbled over to it and slammed it shut. Outside, the waves grew, and the ocean flashed white, reflecting lightning I couldn't see from the side of the ship.

Perhaps this storm could give me cover enough to sneak into the submarine as it's being loaded to access the city…But I had to get out of here first. Here, I am cornered. A sitting duck and as soon as they come in here to unload, I won't have any means of escape.

Making my way to the stairs, banging into half the crates along the way, I reached the top, gripping the rails, and tried the door.

Locked.

Typical. I made my way back to the porthole, and opened it, looking out. Above was another level before reaching the deck of the ship. No other open portholes, but if I could make my way to the top…I could hide in a lifeboat and wait.

"What do I have?" I look around.

Crouching down, lifting the rope and reaching for the crowbar, I put the two together. If I could throw this high enough, maybe this could work as a grappling hook, connecting to the rail at the top…

Getting up and climbing the crate once more - with difficultly, I leaned my whole upper body out of the porthole, fearful of falling out as I twisted my body around, awkwardly facing upwards, feeling very insecure. I swung the crowbar, cowboy style, and let go, completely missing the target and having it land in the water behind me.

This time, doing the same thing again, expect swinging the crowbar the other way, towards the ship, I let go, and watched it go up, past the second floor and up past the railing, then it momentarily paused, before plummeting down. For a second I brought my arms up as I thought the crowbar was going to smack down into my face, screwing my close shut, and hearing a clang. I opened my eyes to see that it had landed on the top floor, and as I pulled the rope, it locked place around the railing.

The climb up was long and hard. My hands stung from rope burn and the cold, and the wind whipped my hair all over my face, blinding me. My grip nearly slipped as I heaved myself over the railing, and my footing was completely lost on deck, so instead of stepping over the railing, I face planted into the floor. Muffled laughter came from ahead and I snapped my head up. Straight in front of me was the bridge, and inside, leaning with his back against the glass was one of the men, beer in hand, shaking his head chuckling.

I swallowed, and quietly slipped across the deck, still on my stomach, away from the windows.

Only when I was behind the bridge and out of sight, did I allow myself to stop and think about my next move. My clothes stuck to me, soaked. I was shaking, and my hands stark white. Wind howled, and waves splashed up the side of the ship. The only light was from the bridge. Other than that, only a faint pale reflection of the moon allowed me to make out some shapes around me. From what I could tell, there was a giant cage used for fishing in front of me, nets and more crates were fastened down to various areas, except those ones were filled with fish, and above was some kind of…crane?

Looking back along the side, it was easier to see as the light from the bridge lit it up. And of course, right in front of the window was the life boat. A jolt of a wave knocked me down to my knees, and rain started to fire down harder. I crawled over to the edge of the window, stealing a brief glance. I couldn't tell what the men were crowded around, be they seem to preoccupied with something, so I took that as my chance to move. On my hands and knees I headed for the life boat. As I reached up to unlatch the tarp, a raised voice froze me.

"HEY! YOU!"

Slowly, I turned around. Fear painted my face.


	4. Dumb Deal

Chapter Four: Dumb Deal

"Put your hands up"

I obliged, knowing that 4 men against…well…me, I had no chance. I wasn't about to think I actually had a chance of escaping. Where could I go? So, with my hands above my head, and water dripping down into my eyes, blurring my vision, I barely saw the movements of one of the men approaching me and yanking me up to my feet and shoving me into the shelter of the bridge. But we didn't stop there. We went down the stairs, coming to a narrow corridor, turning left, right and left again into an office where a chair was brought out from behind the desk and I was told to sit, hands behind the back of the chair, where I was fastened with rope.

"Now, would ya be so kind as to tell us what a little thing like you is doing on our ship?" The man whom spoke paced back and forth. The other two stood either side of the door, and the fourth remain upstairs, minding the ship.

I look down at myself. Tied up and helpless. Droplets of water still dripped, splattering on the floor beside the chair.

"I know about Rapture."

"Yea, well 'ow would you know about that aye?"

"My father told me…and I wanted to see it for myself…" It sounded childish. And it was almost embarrassing to emit my dreams aloud.

"And who would be your father?" The interrogator asked. I looked at him properly for the first time. He was tanned, and large. Wearing denim overall and shirt sleeve rolled, strong, hairy arms were crossed in front of his chest. His face was partly hidden behind a beard, but dark eyes shone under his brows. I stared into them and I uttered the next word.

"Dead."

"Well, that ain't going to help you, is it?" A warm but course hand cupped my face, jerking it up. "Who else knows you're 'ere?"

I yanked my face away, with difficulty. "Nobody." I spat. "I came here alone."

He scoffed. "And now that we found you, what do you think we ought to do with ya?"

I didn't answer. Saying that I wanted them to dropped me off in Rapture and forget about this little meeting of ours, didn't seem like an answer that would be taken very seriously. So I looked back down, remaining silence.

"Nothing? You don't care? Well, I know that me and my mates 'ave been working very hard, and with a sweet, pretty runaway such as yourself…we could always use a little relief." At that I snapped my head up, sending daggers at him. "No? You don't like that. Well, 'ow about we make ourselves a deal?" He suggested as he stroked his beard.

"What kind of…Deal?" The words barely come out, shaking from either the cold, or fear. My fate lies in their hands now. I have no control over the situation, and I can only hope they will let me pass through to Rapture. In the background I could hear one of the other two guards shuffle, muttering 'boss' in a questionable tone. He dismissed them.

"Lets see, you want into Rapture, yes?" I nodded. "And we be getting ourselves into a somewhat…tight lipped situation…" He continued to pace. "The security of our little business is threatened, meaning that due to the circumstances here, our pay checks ain't the only thing being cut…if you catch my drift…"

I swallowed, knowing exactly what he meant. "What exactly…are you wanting me to do?"

"I want you to get rid of our evidence Sullivan has got on us, and get back our profits from Fontaine. Either that, or the sharks won't be hungry for another few days…"

Obviously not having a choice, I nodded. "Deal, but how do you expect me to do that?"

"All with time, lass. We'll talk more after we disembark. But you is going to be our little secret, and we'll be keeping an eye on you…"

After the men left, leaving one outside to guard the door, as if I could get out of these ropes, to unload the hold when we reach the location. I found that the more I did nothing, the more my aches and pains set in. My head pounded from countless knocks, knees cramped and muscles seized up.

The coolness of my still soaked clothes, seeped into my core, and exhaustion finally caught up. My head lulled off to the side, no longer finding the strength to hold it up. I rested my eyes.

I was escorted through a collection of caves, losing track of how many turns we had taken. Smuggled crates appeared to have the contents of: Bibles, Films, Cigars and of course, a wide selection of Booze.

"The fact that so many objects were made contraband left a huge market for illegally smuggled goods, that is where Fontaine's business comes in. People here never stop wanting, and so we never stopped smuggling." my escort explained.

"But some of these things…seem fine. Like the bible? Or films…?

"Andrew Ryan saw these as conflict to his values. Propaganda."

"And so he controls what the people here see and do?"

"Mmmm" he confirmed.

"But he's hot on your trail?"

"Yep, sent Chief of Security, Sullivan, to investigate. Fontaine who started this, has a leash on every one of us, and has been pulling tighter by the minute, trying to dodge Sullivans bullets. Men have disappeared, coming back dead a week later."

"What if he finds out about me?"

"Then you, me, we're gone. Ain't no games around here, kid." We came to an opening in a wall, stepped through, revealing the opening of a frozen storage unit. Fish hung on hooks, crates of oysters and mussels stacked in the corner, and four giant freezers stood against the walls. The man walked ahead of me, hauling the freezer door open, allowing me to step inside. "Names Clinton by the way." He smiled charmingly as he shut the door, following up behind me. Clinton was friendly. He was as far as I could tell, the youngest man on the ship earlier.

"Charlie." I responded, before stopping to see someone was already inside behind a shelf at the back of the containment. The figure stepped out of hiding, wrinkled face grinning at me, gapping teeth.

"Peach Wilkins. Now we all know each other's names, let's be talking business."

I shuffled on my feet, hands in pockets. My breath came out in great white plumes. The floor was iced over, as was the walls of the containment. Shelves held more crates, and tins of various seafood and the stench almost gagged me.

Wilkins beaconed me around the corner, where a makeshift clump of ice made for an uncomfortable seat. I sat down, careful not to slip, looking back up at the two men.

"First things first, lass. Do you understand what we will do to you if you do not…cooperate?" Wilkins wheezed a cough at the end of the sentance, perhaps from too many years of smoking.

I nodded.

"Good, because we're risking a lot. And I want to think as myself as a loyal follower of Fontaine, but you see, we all come down here, figured we'd all be part of Ryan's Great Chain. Turns out Ryan's chain is made of gold, and ours are the sort with the big iron ball around your ankle. Fontaine promised to free us from those chains, and instead, we've been locked in, with the key thrown away."

"So you want me to find the key?" I asked.

"No.. no… No one can do that, but to loosen the chains, yes."

Peach went on the explain how Sullivan was holding files against most of Fontaine's employees including him and Clinton. Because of this, the chances of their 'disappearance' were great, could in fact happen any day now. All I had to do, was sneak into his office through the vents, as I was small enough to do so, grab the files, and burn them without being caught.

"How do I know where to go?"

"Sullivan's office serves as his interrogation room, it's up in the Wharf Master's office."

"I'll take you halfway, but if I'm seen snooping" Clinton made a cut gesture across his throat.

"You're a little one." Peach stated. "Could probably fit in the vents…"

So with nothing but the clothes on my back, and a small lighter given to me, I followed Clinton to the upper Wharf. As he left me, he smirked. I looked around.

Just like the docks…but inside. Wooden floors creaked. Conveyer belts lined one wall. More men walked back and forth, heaving large crates and instruments. Some stood at work tables, guttering and cleaning fish. A glass wall ahead showed the expanse of the ocean floor. Instantly drawn to it, I walked towards the glass. The deep blue. Far out, a school of fish went past, a critter crawled along the sand below, and to my amazement, a massive dark figure float gracefully by. Was that a whale?

I was here. I was finally in Rapture. And I couldn't contain my smile. The butterflies had return, the good ones.

"Hey, Kid! You ain't supposed to be down here." A hand came down on my shoulder, pulling me away from the view. I looked up, imagining how I looked. A small, pale, pathetic, damp girl. Hair hanging limply and clothes tattered. I probably looked homeless. "Lets get you to security." He lead me with an iron grip on my arm, up some stairs, and through a barred gate. A sign ahead read:

WharfMaster's

Office

That was easy. I had to suppress a smirk as the man pulled me around the corner and through another barred gate. A couple of turns later, we reached a door in which the man pounded on. Moments later, that door slid open, and we approached an exhausted looking man. Circles under big round eyes. And thinning moustache above his lip, as well as thinning of the hair on his head. By the judge of his appearance, stress was eating him alive.

"What is it?" He glanced up at my capturer before eyeing me.

"Found this kid just standing round. Probably lost."

"Kid? That's no kid! That's a young lady and you would do your best to show some respect." Sullivan snapped at the man, looking back at me, with a softer, but impatient tone, he asked, "now young lady, civilians such as yourself should not wonder in here without an escort. What's your business?"

Think fast.

"…curiosity…" Wow, what a great excuse. Play it dumb…

Sullivan looked to be smart enough to not buy it, but either he wasn't suspicious, or more likely, he didn't care, and replied. "Very well, next time, bring an escort, and as for you," he looked up and the man behind me, "escort her out."

The man shrugged and beckoned me follow him out of the fisheries. He left me in a great big glass tube. Seaweed and coral grew along side the edges and I couldn't help but marvel at the bright pigments. They swayed gently in the currents as if it was a breeze in the air. These were like the ocean trees, oxidising the water, feeding off the waste products of the secondary producers. I remember little of what I studied about the ocean in school, but I know that finding primary producers and photosynthetic species so low down was uncommon…but maybe because of Raptures presence, somehow we are able to sustain their lives down here, even in these depths.

Back down the tube, the door opened, and I looked to see Clinton walking directly at me. Not happy.

Putting my hands up in defence, I started "I know, I know. But what do you expect, sending in someone who doesn't know what they're doing or what this place is…"

"We already told ya! Use the vents!"

"Where?"

Clinton sighed. And pointed up. The ceiling of the tube had a metal strip running down it, lights dotting across it.

"Oh." I stated dumbfound.

"I gotta go, but if I find myself coming over to find you one more time, it won't be for a warning. I like ya kid, don't change that." I nodded, and watched him retreat.

Now to find an entrance to this vent, and get this over and done with.


	5. Exploring

Chapter Five: Exploring

Following the vent away from the fisheries, coming out of the tube to an opening. Ahead was a Bathysphere Station. I turned in a circle, looking for an opening to the vent. And of course, up out of reach was the mesh covered entrance. A crate sat in the far corner, so, hoping nobody would walk in on me, I hauled crate across the floor, changing directions to push it firmly in place against the wall under the vent.

Two screws held the bottom in place, while the top was hinged. I used my Swiss knife the unscrew it, placing the screws in my pocket, and jumped up into the vent, using my forearms to heave myself in.

It was big enough for me to easily slide in, but I could not crawl on my knees. Instead I had to army crawl through.

The air inside was dry, crisp and warm. The crawl took a solid five minutes just to travel the length of the tube and reach the fisheries. From there, there was another opening to the vent, and a pathway either side of it. Left or right. At least knowing some the of area now, I took the right.

At one point I had to back track, as I had reached a dead end with a fan at the end. I couldn't quite turn my body around, so I ended up wriggling my body backwards.

When I did reach Sullivan's office, I peered inside. He was still there. Now what? The clock on the wall told me it was mid morning…it would be a while till his lunch break, but with nothing better to do, I watched and waited.

Sullivan, at his deck, scribbled notes, emptied files on top of files, ran his hands through his hair and sighed often. He had a habit of tapping his foot, impatience growing when he back tracked, looking at photos and documents he had already examined thoroughly. The wall next to him was mostly glass, peering into white tiled room, a solitary chair…with straps…sat in the centre. Probably his 'interrogation' room.

Eventually he shed his tweed coat, got up and span around to face his giant pin board behind him, littered with photos, string connecting them and notes. Lots of notes. I couldn't read any from up here, but I could see a newspaper cutting of what appeared to be the opening of Fontaine Fisheries.

Another thing that caught my eye, was that where peoples faces should be, red marker ran through them repeatedly, as if drawn in a rage. I recalled when Clinton told me that people would often disappear, turning up dead a week later. Looks like Sullivan may not be the one responsible for those men's fates.

One thing I didn't understand, was the word:

SPLICERS

I could read the words clearly as it took up most of the upper left hand corner. But…what does it mean? Was it a gang? A code word for something.

Sullivan was writing in another small note, stopping and looked over the board. Then his office phone rang.

"Yes." He nodded followed by a frown as he listened. "But sir…no? Are you positive that this is what you want? Very well…" His trembling hand placed the phone back down on the receiver, but remained on the phone. His other hand came up to his face, pinching the bridge his nose before coming back down. As he reached for his coat, he opened his desk draw, bringing out a silver pistol. What was he going to do? Did whoever rang, wanted someone dead? Sullivan didn't look to be willing whatever was requested of him, but what if he said no. What would his consequences be? The pit of my stomach felt off about the situation.

After his exit, I slid out of the vent, rolling to the floor before standing back up and approached the desk. As far as I could tell, all of it was to do with the smugglers case. I pulled out the lighter, and stacked all the sheets of evidence together. As I lit the corner, a pang of guilt struck me. Sullivan was doing a job with Andrew Ryan breathing down his neck…and smuggling is technically illegal.

Fire danced before me, engulfing the whole stack. My deed is done.

I returned to the vent, wriggling back to the main part of the fisheries, and taking a new route, which I hope would lead me to the freezer.

When I got there, I looked to find Peach talking to one of the workers, then whacking his helmet with a wrench to send him on his way.

"Umm…" I tapped the back of his shoulder. He turned, an unpleasant look on his face. "Done…"

"Don't you bloody know anything about being discrete. Go! I don't want to see you here again, and watch your back. You're as safe as us now, which isn't a good thing." He started to turn around before turning back for one more message, "and thanks kid, you really helped us." Peach walked away, and I quickly scampered back into the vents to the Bathysphere.

I had no idea where to go. From what I could tell, up was the only direction, but how far up? One level? Five levels? Most of the names of each level told me nothing. Apparently I was on Neptune's Bounty. There were heaps of places I could go. After scanning the list twice over, I decided on the destination 'Farmers market". Maybe there I can find someone who can tell me about Rapture.

As the door open, fresh sweet air flooded in. A gorgeous sight of open grass, blooming trees, streams and families. Families with dogs and children laughing and running around. It looked like paradise. The grass was spongy, which was a strange sensation in itself to walk on and when I reached a thin stream of water, I peered in to see little fish. Some were gold fish, some were Siamese fighting fish and others were of breeds I didn't know. Over the bridge and through the doors, I reached the market, bustling with business. People we haggling and carrying baskets full of fresh groceries.

Submerging myself in the crowds, I could smell the cooking a something delicious, and the baking of something savoury. My stomach churned. When was the last time I ate? Back on the surface, but that was over 12 hours ago now…

"Miss, how would you like one of our lovely, heated savoury scone?" I turned to an elderly man, glasses sitting on his nose and a grey hat atop his head. He smiled kindly, warmth in his eyes.

On cue, my stomach groaned again, and I could only hope that he couldn't hear it over the noise of the market. I searched my pockets for any change I managed to save from my last meal. I pulled out the remaining pound. Looking back at the man, I smiled weakly. "I don't suppose this is the right currency…or amount?"

He took a second to examine it, and shook his head sympathetically, as I was about to turn and walk away he stopped me. "But please, you look like you could use this." And to prevent me from declining, he placed the scone in my hand.

"Th-thank you sir."

"It's my pleasure! And welcome to Rapture!" That made me laugh, I guess now, I've got tourist written all over me. I thanked him again, and went on to explore further.

The scones warmth hit me in the right spot. It almost made my eyes water purely because it tasted so good. Every last crumb was devoured and I licked my fingers, savouring the taste.

At one point I had reached the Arcadia, an open park full of the most lush and green forestries I had ever seen. The sweet smell was intoxicating, dragging my further in. The atmosphere was dense, and it eloped me. Never have I felt so at peace. It was so relaxing, so calming. Others walked round aimlessly, as I found myself doing too.

It was as if something in the atmosphere was causing this.

Realising this, I shook myself out of the trance. The feeling still numbed me, but I looked around, no longer know where I was. Foliage surrounded me, bright flowers of pinks, blues, oranges and reds appeared larger than ever, and the fainted sound of something being spray caught my attention. I turned sharply towards it, almost losing balance, to see a purple cloud disperse into the air.

So they were drugging us!

I didn't know whether to be alarmed or not. But that might just be because I am under the influence. Slowly, I went to find my way out. As I past through the exit, I couldn't help but overhear a man and a women talking.

"Have you been in there! I don't think the effects have ever been this strong…"

"No I haven't been in there and I don't intend too. I'll have to fix the formula."

Were they scientists? Did they do this? At least I know that it wasn't meant to be that intense…

I had followed a family who I overheard them talking about going to some theatre performance. This'll be my only lead to Jenny, maybe she's being escorted to a show, it seems fitting. If not, I don't know where she'll be.

This performance was in a place called; Fort Frolic. Decorated in neon lights, tall decorated columns, and checkerboard tiles across the floor. As I walked through, the PA announced:

"Being the best at what you do can really take it out on you. So unwind! At Fort Frolic: gamble, shop, take in a show or meet a new friend, all at Fort Frolic. Fort Frolic: where the best and brightest celebrate success."

All around me, the people were dressed in expensive clothes, smoking cigars and drinking champagne. I felt out of place in my dirty tattered outfit, but as I walked through, nobody seemed to give me even the slightest glance. Oblivious to my presence.

A clock on the wall told me it was after work hours, explaining why it was so busy.

When I had reached upstairs, I found a steady stream of people heading into the 'Fleet Hall'. I followed, but seeing that up ahead there were ticket booths, I realised I wasn't going to get very far, and still I hadn't seen Jenny.

But of course… the vents. Here, the vents were hidden in the walls and ceiling, making it harder to track to an opening I could get into, but finding the privacy in a bathroom, I repeated the process of unscrewing and opening the vent, and jumping in.

By the time I found my way into the theatre, the show had already started. I didn't recognise it either. Probably a Rapture original.

I scanned the audience, and when I almost gave up, I saw Jenny, dressed unlike herself, in a rather nice satin dress, jewels sparkling from her hands and neck, hair curled and done up. It was rather elegant. Beside her was someone I didn't recognise, but I could tell they came together from the occasional commentary they whispered to each other, perhaps analysing the performance.

Somehow, I was going to have to talk to her after the show, but would she want to see me like this, out in public. What if she has an image to protect now…but could Jenny be so shallow?

Nah…we've been friends since we were young children! And always has she been the energised bubbly self.

I enjoyed what I could see of the show from the angle from the wall adjacent to the stage, and when the finale began, I made my way out to wait for Jenny by the entrance.


	6. Oh…Why…Hello Sir

Chapter Six: Oh…Why…Hello Sir

Jenny and her escort were one of the last to leave, their arms hooked, deep in conversation, I approached them shyly.

When Jenny moved her gaze away from the man she was with and towards me, her eyes grew huge. I thought for a second she was going to go full out and scream with excitement, when fortunately she squealed and ran at me, engulfing me into a tight warm hug.

"CHARLIE! It's so GOOD to see you! How was the journey, where are you staying, when did you get here?" I smiled as she went on. "…oh and um, sorry" She said turning to her escort. "Charlie, meet Sander Cohen, Mr Cohen, meet my dearest friend, Charlie."

I went forward to shake his hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you Mr Cohen."

He glanced up and down at me for a moment, taking in the sight of me, before taking my hand briefly and shaking it, weakly. "Yes, and it is a… wonder to meet you also…"

His message didn't reach his eyes, let alone his tone in his voice. This was getting awkward, perhaps I should go…

"Oh Charlie, we have so much to catch up on, I'll show you my apartment! You should stay the night too!" Jenny turned to Cohen once more. "Mr Cohen, the evening was terrific and I'm excited to see your play tomorrow!" Jenny babbled on, in way, sending Mr Cohen on his way.

"I'm happy you enjoyed your evening, as did I. I shall have a seat reserved for you next to Mr Ryan."

The two farewelled each other, and Jenny took my hand, taking me to her apartment Athena's Glory, in Olympus Heights.

"Wow"

Polished dark wood covered the floors, we headed into the open living space. Large sofas sat around a glass table. Thick velvet curtains framed either side of the windows, showing the expanse of the city from the great height we were at. I marvelled at the luxury.

"I know." I turned to Jenny, a big grin across her face.

"This is huge."

"I know."

"Expensive."

"I know."

"And it's YOURS"

"I KNOW!"

We stared at each other briefly before bursting out into laughter. Tears formed in my eyes. I was laughing so hard it almost hurt.

It took a few minutes for us to calm down. The whole situation was so surreal. It was hard to believe.

We raided her fridge, taking fancy wines out and making ourselves dessert before retiring to the living room for some gossip. I told her about my adventure here, but decidedly leaving out the part where I was caught and made to burn evidence for the smugglers in fear of being overheard, and when I reached the part about the garden, Jenny explained.

"The Arcadia is supposed to do that! It's to calm people, make them feel better. It's for relief. Some people need that when they're at the bottom of the world, you know."

"Okay then…then what does the word 'Splicer' mean?" I questioned, thinking back to what I saw in Sullivan's office.

"I think thats someone that uses excessive amounts of ADAM. You know what ADAM is?" I shook my head. "ADAM is a substance used to genetically enhance yourself." I raised my eyebrow. That was pretty advanced stuff. "It's rather expensive though, and too much splicing can damage you somhow… Cohen says that real artists don't need anymore help with our performance, but one of the cast members I met earlier said it helped her a great deal…might even do it again… I wonder if all the bad things people say is just stigma, sounds too good to be true, you know? People just can't quite belief it yet…"

"Where do you get it from?"

Jenny shrugged, "Beats me. I heard a rumour that there's been the odd case where people going completely mental for the stuff. Kinda scary…but I'm not sure how true it is. Anyway, you don't have a place to stay do you…you can stay here with me. Also, you should shower. I can get you some of my clothes to wear, I got a whole new wardrobe." I thought back to the bag I had originally brought with me onto the ship on the surface. Hadn't seen it for a while now, guess it was searched and thrown away.

Rolling my eyes I followed her into her room, and then into her very large wardrobe room.

Everything looked so fancy with so many silk dresses and fur coats, it was so glamorous. "Do you have any pants and shirts instead?"

"Only what I brought from the surface. You can have them if you like, I don't think I'll even be needing them now." She showed me to the draw that held them, and as I rummaged around, I commented on her wealth, "You won't let it all go to your head now, will you?"

"What do you mean?"

"All the fame, money…you could have anything you want at this rate, but that doesn't mean you will…right?"

"Charlie…be happy for me"

"I am! I am!" I put my hands up defensively. "I just don't want you to become something you're not. Someone nasty, selfish, arrogant, judgmen—"

"Ok I get it! And no, I wouldn't ever." Jenny smile, sweetly and sincerely. Right now at least, Jenny is Jenny, and it was good to have her right now.

I gathered the clothes I wanted, and a pair of pyjamas for tonight and hopped into the shower, and if that wasn't the best shower in the world, I don't know what is.

After that, we continue our conversation about Jenny's journey.

At arrival, she was escorted by Ryan, and given the grand tour of Rapture. Afterwards, being taken to her apartment, she apparently had all these nice clothes waiting for her, and the number to her own personal stylist, and later had dinner Ryan, Diana and Cohen.

She has already meet most of the theatre community at a lunch earlier today and talked further about her future projects under Cohen she was going to take on.

"But as incredible as it has been, I haven't really had a lot of time to take it all in. But I'm glad you're here with me."

On the TV, we watched some cheesy movie before eventually falling asleep on the couch, TV still on.

The following morning, Jenny was up early and booked up with appointments - had to start working on choreography for a musical coming out in a few weeks. I wished her luck and we went out separate ways.

My schedule purely involved with getting a job. Rapture was a place where you had to earn your right to have things such as food and a place to call home, although due to social status, some people get more ahead than others. Jenny was near the top of the food chain, I was at the bottom.

As I passed several stores, occasional going into one looking for work, only to be turned down each time, I heard some commotion and yelling.

"Who was that? Where did they go!" Yelled one man.

A boy, about my age came speeding around the corner, slamming into me. I fell to the ground, and in a small fit of anger, I snapped. "Hey kid! You better watch where you're bloody going!"

He looked at me, and hastily got up and pulled me up by the hand. "Sorry sweet cheeks, bad day." He let go of my hand, running off the way he was initially going. I look down at the hand moments ago he held.

My eyes widened when I realise what he had done.

Shit.

I was tackled to the ground.

Half an hour later, and I was behind bars.

"Are…you…KIDDING ME!" I shook the bars, metal clanging against metal.

Electrical discharge shot out of the guards finger tips, a sharp twisting pain ran up and down my spine, like a thousand needles, my legs failing underneath me. What the hell? What was that?

"You like that? No? Then shut it!" He spat at me as I lay crumpled on the ground.

The boy who ran into me was running from security. He had stolen a diamond ring, knowing he was seconds away from being caught, he gave it to me.

Bastard! I wanted punch him… If I ever got out of here.

I managed to get enough of my strength back, stood up and leaned on the bars for support, breathing heavily, talking to the guard.

"Sir, please…there's been a mistake…"

He scoffed, "like we haven't heard that one before."

"I was framed. I didn't steal it. There was a boy, he ran into me an—"

"Save it, kid." He threatened, sparks coming out of his hand and he gestured towards me. My eye grew huge as I saw blue and white dance around his finger tips. I'd never seen anything like it before.

What more could I do? Wait for another guard that wouldn't shock me, and persuade him. Who was in charge around here? I looked around for vents, there wasn't any, but I wouldn't be able to open them anyway. I had been stripped at put in some oversized striped pyjamas.

How long had passed? One hour? Five hours? I had been pacing back and forth for a while until I grew dizzy. I tried sleeping if off on the thin mattress on the floor of my cell, but how could I? I was still stunned. Stunned I was in here, stunned about the guard and his lightning. Other cells were mostly filled with people. Some were sleeping, others were in a ball.

The guards shifts had changed at one point, and the new guard was not much better than the first. At least he didn't shock me, however I knew not to push his buttons.

I heard a door open at the end of the line of cells, unable to see who had entered, but I could hear as they approached.

"—safe for testing?"

An incredibly strong southern accent replied, "Why of course, but these guys are going to cost. Let's talk numbers, chief."

The two men came into view, both in suits. I took my chance. 'Talk numbers' this had to be someone that was in charge around here.

"Hey! Sir! Come over here…" The men turned around, expressions showing a cross between disturbance and annoyance. One man had a slight hunch, a trimmed moustache and a comb over. His eyes were darken with either the lack of sleep, or from too much stress…or probably both. Over his suit, draped a white lab coat. The other stood up straighter, hair was a dark brown and combed nicely back. Eyes looking straight back into mine, blood rushed to my cheeks, momentarily forgetting what I wanted to say.

"Oh…Why…Hello Sir" I smiled. Stupid I yelled in my head. I scratched my arm nervously. "Sorry…but, are—are…you" I stumbled over my words as he raised an eyebrow, impatience showing in his stance. "Are you…in charge?"

His reply was slow as he stretched out the word. "Yes…?"

"Good" I clapped my hands and clasped them together to stop any nervous tremors. "You need to get me out of here."

He stepped towards the cell, a smirk forming on his lips. "And why would I do that now?"

"Because…I didn't do anything!" I insisted. My palms were sweating.

The man came closer, then reaching out he pulled out a clipboard beside my cell. Flicking through it, he looked back at me. "I don't think so sport. You call stealing diamond rings nothing? I call it thievery."

"No…no, that wasn't me. Please let me explain." My heart skipped when he nodded. The man looked at me amused, but didn't interrupt. Finally, someone that will listen! "I was walking along, when I heard the commotion, before I knew it, someone run into me from around the corner, he put the ring in my hand before running off again. I understand when they saw me with it they put two and two together, but please! There has to be some security footage or a witness…"

He sighed, glancing at the clipboard before placing it back. "Alright, Miss… Sage. I'll have someone look into it, but for now, I have some business to attend to if you don't mind…"He gave me a sympathetic look, "hang in there ma'am, we'll get you out as soon as we can."

I nodded and watched him escort the other man out.

Moments later, a guard came in, stopping at my cell. "Miss Sage, Mr Sinclair has instructed that you be taken somewhere more comfortable while you wait."

He opened the door, and a few other prisoners shouted out in disbelief. I felt like a traitor, but I was innocent. I followed to guard.

So…Mr Sinclair. That was his name. I certainly owe 'Mr Sinclair' one. I doubt he does this very often for prisoners.

I'll have to thank him sincerely.


	7. Image is Everything

Chapter Seven: Image is Everything

I was brought into a plain room, yellow walls, no windows, but there was a tatty wee sofa, and there was a proper bed. The door to a private bathroom was tucked away in the corner, and a heater bolted against the wall gave out steady heat. This room, though better than a the previous metal cage I was locked in earlier, was still just another cell…though I'm not entirely sure why this one is so nice by comparison if it was for prisoner.

It had been about maybe three hours but I couldn't be sure. The guards had checked in on me to see I was alright a few times - one even brought a radio in which cheered me up a little, but for the most part, I was left to my thoughts.

I hope Jenny doesn't worry about not hearing from me. She ought to be home soon if not already. It would be nice to have the clothes she gave me back also, but as my innocence had not been proven yet, I guess I was to still be treated as a prisoner…to an extent. I wonder if this happens often. I mean, people being arrested mistakingly, and how many are as lucky as me to be given a second chance.

Maybe it was for looks - I had obviously interrupted Mr Sinclair during some kind of business encounter, and he decided to give me false hope in order to look good in front of whoever the other man was. Perhaps I was just going to get thrown back into prison later on…

I couldn't keep thinking of that, it made me feel dreary and helpless. Nothing that had happened had been in my control. Except leaving Jenny's home and heading into town.

However my mind drifted back to thoughts of 'what ifs'. What if I stayed? Stayed back on the surface? I would go to University, be alone, have to get a job and pay rent, and therefore have no social life. Eventually when I graduate, I might not even have a stable job. How was I supposed to know if what I was studying, was going to lead me to a career that would actually exist in the next ten years. Looking at Rapture, and the technology here, how long would it be until the surface caught up.

And Mum…would she come back? Ever? What would she think if she did return, to find the apartment had different tenants. Tears stung my eyes and I wiped off a stray droplet rolling down my cheek

…and Dad…

No.

Not now, I can't think of him now of all times!

Snuffing, I listened back to the radio, undoubtedly regulated by Ryan.

"What's the matter, Frank?"

"It's this thinning hair, Jim! Every day there's less and less."

"You know the problem's not in your hair, it's in your genes."

"Hey, I don't go in for all that splicing stuff, my buddy says it's not safe."

"Shows you what your buddy knows. Go over to Genetic Horizons for a trial of Fresh Hair. Fresh Hair not only gives you a full head of thick hair, but it's 100% safe."

"Full head of hair? And 100% safe?! Maybe it's time for me to get a little Fresh Hair!"

A song followed after the ad, and the door to the room opened, without a single knock. An officer of sorts walked in with a clipboard.

"I truly apologise for this inconvenience ma'am, but we are going to have to ask you a few questions, do you mind if I record your answers?" I shook my head and allowed him to sit on the other end of the couch, facing me.

The interview consisted of stating my business in town, descriptions of the true thief, background information on me, which I struggled most with. Hoping he wouldn't ask how I came to Rapture. Now that might get my locked up for good.

After the interview, the man got up, and left saying it won't be long till I find out my fate.

At least he wasn't wrong about that. I was just about fed up with all that waiting.

Not long laters, finally there was a knock at the door before it opened, I was relieved to see Mr Sinclair coming in.

"Well, Miss Sage. What a grave mistake we have made bringing you in here. I'm terribly sorry, and not only will you be given all your property back, but I since I heard what your business was in town today, I would like to offer you a job. The name's Augustus Sinclair."

I stood up respectably - though feeling a little silly standing in striped clothes, "Um…Charlie, and really? That would be great! But…why?"

Without answering my question, I watched Mr Sinclair waltz over and sat comfortably on the sofa while I was perched on the edge of the bed. His tie had been loosen, and the days work was showing, the wrinkling in his shirt, hair must have had hands combing through it many times but he remain composed and mannered. "Now, the position I am offering you is going to require you to be comfortable using charismatic charms," he started, I raised an eyebrow, immediately suspicious and already preparing to turn down, he chuckled. "No, darling, not like that. I'm talking about working at my latest business; a bar, 'Sinclair Spirits'. For now it is just the one bar in Fort Frolic to milk out loose change from Raptures population, and I have yet to find a manager."

"Manager? I don't think I would remotely be qualified for that Mr Sinclair." I say honestly.

"Don't worry about that, I look after all of my assets, and you will be taken well cared for. You'll have your own staff and will have to manage them, along with stock and…well it's a very self-explanatory job. Paperwork, some basic numbers. I am a certain someone such as yourself would thoroughly enjoy the pay check… What do you say, Miss Sage?"

It really didn't take much consideration for me to answer. I wasn't having much luck before being arrested, and who knows if I could get another job which promised a decent pay…

We shook hands, and Mr Sinclair held out his arm, escorting me to his office where I was able to get changed and freshen up in the privacy.

When I came out, Mr Sinclair had a contract agreement waiting for me to sign. He leaned back in his chair, raising his eyebrow as I read over the details carefully, but said nothing.

The contract stated some pretty weird things. The weirdest was about my living arrangements.

"Employees of Augustus Sinclair must allow 24/7 access onto their properties and comply with the usage their property for business purposes?" I scowled, looking up at Mr Sinclair.

"We of course wouldn't simply barge into one's home, we would gave you some warning prior." He stated simply. I was not ok with people using Jenny's home for their 'business purposes'.

"I don't have a home."

Now it was Mr Sinclair's turned to scowl. "Where are you staying then?"

"A friends, but you're not going to be bringing her all this 'business'." I replied, being firm about it, but also sounding somewhat childish. It would not be fair on her and I had to make that clear.

"Then I'll just have to get you your own home don't I?" He smirked. "How does Olympus Heights sound? Mercury Suites? Would actually work very well for me…" Mr Sinclair went on, mores thinking aloud then actually asking for my opinion.

"What? And that's far too expensive, I would never afford it…"

"Miss Sage, like I have said before, I look after my assets…and on another note…as an addition to our contract agreement…I can't have you talking about your time in Persephone. You don't know this place and you have never heard of it…understood?" Mr Sinclair eyed me as he went for a cigar. I nodded. "Now, do we have ourselves a deal?" He gestured to the contract. I sighed and reached over his desk, reaching for a pen, and without giving it another thought, I signed.

A phone call later, and a room in Mercury Suites is ready for me. Mr Sinclair, being a gentleman, held out his arm, and escorted me to my new home.

In the Bathysphere I asked, "Do you live nearby?"

"Of course, but on a much higher level than you will be. Thought I'd at least give a lady her privacy." The circumstance of the situation still bothered me, especially the part about being quiet about Persephone…So, taking a deep breath, I decided to stick my nose in to find out why.

"And…you're only doing this to protect Persephone?…"

A stern expressed washed over his face and he leaned forward, voice taking a new tone of perhaps anger? "Now you're stepping into my territory. I don't want to have to put my foot down, and I'm doing everything I can to make you feel comfortable with our business, but you need to cooperate. Not another word about it. You'll live in a respectable place, working in a position under my name. Fit the part in the machine, or you'll get replaced."

That was all I needed to hear. The cold hard truth. Business. That's all it was.

We didn't speak another word the rest of the way up. I could guess what would happen if I decide now I didn't want any part in his business. I briefly thought about the men in Fontaine Fisheries.

The size of the apartment shocked me, even after seeing Jenny's. This was probably equal in size, though the view I had was from a lower point of view, seeing less of the city but being able to spy on a glass tube to see people walking one way or the other. My mood lightened.

Mr Sinclair made told me my fridge is already stocked, and that I am to see him 10 in the morning sharp in his office, leaving shortly afterwards.

After exploring more, finding my bedroom, opening all the empty draws and wardrobe, I gasped.

Jenny!

I have to tell her everything…but how? I'll have to leave out the part where I was arrested and behind bars to hide persephone…which was most of my day…but telling her about my job offer was alright? Do I mention Mr Sinclair's name? Maybe…

I decided instead to ring Jenny over visiting her, calling the operator for the number, and hearing Jenny's concerned reply, I told her I had a place to stay, and would update her later, and to her annoyance she obliged. I felt that the last of my energy was used up.

The apartment was lonely, I left the TV on while had a relaxing warm bath before going to bed. The background sound a the TV gave me a small amount of comfort as I slept.

I felt like such a stupid, silly girl, thinking initially Mr Sinclair was doing this out of the goodness of his heart, but now, my future was in HIS hands, all I have to do is cooperate. I'm sick of not having control.

Somehow, I'm going to have to gain leverage over him, take control…


	8. Fair Lady

Chapter Eight: Fair Lady

After getting up from my deep slumber, I felt significantly better and much more refreshed than the previous few days. My muscles were completely relaxed, and despite the odd bump and bruise from my journey here, aches were almost non-existent. Almost.

I opted for cereal for breakfast as I didn't have very much time before having to visit Mr Sinclair. I downed the remaining milk in my bowl, and dressed in the same attire as yesterday…I have to go shopping sometime this week when I get my first pay…

When I was outside the office, I made a beeline for the door, but the secretary interrupted me, asking if I had an appointment. Her nose was turned up at me, sitting behind the desk with a typewriter in front of her. She had fluffy blond hair and looked dolled up with makeup. Her blouse cut low, emphasising her already large chest. Must be how Mr Sinclair likes his secretaries. I almost rolled my eyes at her, but stopping instead and smiled politely, confirming an appointment before entering the room.

Mr Sinclair was busy with a stack of papers and was on the phone. He gestured towards a chair for me to wait in while he finished up with his call. I didn't really catch the topic of conversation, something to do with productions of toys though and needing them in stock fast. He hung up and turned to me.

"Sorry about that…" He adjusted his tie which he must've loosen during the phone call.

I asked, "Good phone call or bad phone call?" Hoping to find out more about him and his businesses.

He opened his mouth ready to answer, but then closed his mouth quickly and smirked, realising what I was doing. Shaking his head he replied, "You almost had your way there, chief, but I won't spill the beans that easily. We have our own business to attend to."

"Oh, so it is possible. Mmm I wonder what it would take…" A smile played on my lips and I leaned forward.

"I think we should start talking business…"

"But that's exactly what we're doing" I cut in.

"Not OUR business." Mr Sinclair said, signalling his hand between us to emphasis the 'our' in 'our business'. "Now, unfortunately I have had to move some appointments around, and I no longer have time to take you to the bar today, unless you're wanting to check it out alone…?"

"Or after work hours? I wouldn't even know where to go by myself, I barely knew how I get here." I reasoned.

"How long have you been in Rapture, Miss Sage?" He asked leading back in his chair

"A couple of days."

A surprised look crossed his face. "Well perhaps you could use a tour." He grabbed a note pad and pen, writing something down for himself while continuing to talk. "…I'll show you around, and we can grab a bite to eat while we're out tonight…and maybe I can get a more complete picture of who you are." He looked up from his notes and smiled.

"You saying you always treat your employees before interrogating them?"

He chuckled. "Not often is it an 'interrogation' as it is an interview, which is exactly what you'll be doing very soon. I have had Belinda, the secretary you walked passed on the way in here, to write up a wanted for hire position under your name in the papers. Expect resumes coming through your pneumo soon. I want you to open in a week. Hire your cutest interviewees. Looks pay."

"Hmmm" I thought, "so…you want cute… like your secretary?"

A playful smirk played on his lips, "If you can. Plenty of men would come round just to see something like that standing round." I rolled my eyes. "Of course I'll have security each night for you, that'll be under me."

"So do you own all of the security or just Persephone's?" I tried.

"What did you say?" His smirk was gone, but his eyes still showed a glint of amusement.

"Say what?"

"You know what you said."

"I do? What was it about? I don't think I remember…"

"I recon if you think really…" He emphasised, "hard…you might just remember."

"Hmm" I thought aloud, "I don't know…I've got a lot of other things to remember, perhaps if you jog my memory…tell me something about it…"

Mr Sinclair seemed to have cracked, chuckling which soon turned a laugh.

Still playing along, I asked while grinning slyly, "Are you quite alright, Mr Sinclair?"

The phone suddenly rang, and the still smiling man, he picked up before telling the person on the other end to hold on.

"I'll pick you up at seven. Also go to the 'Refine Devine' and give them my name." He winked, before going back to the phone.

'Refine Devine'…what could that be. And where?

I asked 'Belinda the secretary' where I could find it, in which she snorted before telling me the location. I was surprised when I arrived, walking into a bright glossy room. Shiny marble floors, glass sculptures, tall mirrors and pillars accessorised with sparkling gems. I felt like I had to pay just to walk in. And what did they sell?

The finest most expensive dresses I had ever seen in my life.

A lady approached me, heels clicking as she walked.

"May I…" She paused ever so briefly as she looked me up and down, her smile faltering slightly before smiling once again like she was just judging me a split second ago. "…help you?"

"Um, yes, uh, Augustus Sinclair sent me?" I questioned, unsure of myself.

The lady's expression lit up, as it would when you solve a riddle, "Ah yes, follow me, Miss Sage, is it?" I nodded, confirming my name, and followed behind her silently in my comfortable rubber-soled shoes, feeling slightly offended by the ladies attitude towards me.

She took me into a back room and had me stand on a platform in the middle, mirrors surrounding us. The lady pulled out a measuring tape and proceeded to take my measurements.

"Do you know what this is for…" I asked slowly.

"Mr Sinclair has ordered us to make a few dresses for you, one of which to be finished for you tonight…" She sighed, probably about the short notice, which I didn't blame her for.

"Is that enough time?"

"It's tight, but not impossible, I'm afraid your dress is not going to be too elaborate, but we will make sure you are looking as fine as the other ladies."

"Don't worry about that…I don't really need anything fancy." I wasn't sure if I even needed this to be honest.

After taking my measurements, we looked over a catalogue of designs, asking things like what I would be comfortable in, and what would most compliment my figure and so on.

By the time I left, about an hour had past, and she instructed that the dress would be done by five this evening.

I went home for lunch, and found that not only was there two resumes in my pneumo, but also an envelope with cash and a small note inside:

First payment for your first day consisting of

$900. Weekly payments will consist of

$6,000.

-Augustus Sinclair.

I almost dropped the enveloped when I read this. This is a lot of money! A lot! I was horrified. What was I supposed to do with it? Never have I had that much money in my life, and now I'll be earning it every week. I couldn't look at it any longer, so I hastily stashed it away in the draw, and looked over the resumes for a distraction. They were pretty standard, nothing stood out really. I'll wait another day or so before I organise some interviews.

The time was 3o'clock when I decided I had too much time to kill, and left to explore more. Before leaving, I paused by the door, the thought of all the money I had hidden less than a metre away, and decided to quickly grabbed a few notes from my payment, stuffing it into my pocket as if I was stealing something that didn't belong to me. I certainly didn't deserve it. I hadn't done anything yet, and was managing a bar even worth that much?

It took me a very long time before I bought anything with the money. I bought things I thought were going to be appropriate for tonight, such as make up. Accompanying the makeup for tonight, I bought some black heels, not very high ones, but high enough I could still walk in. I didn't know if I need to buy anything else for tonight or not, and I only had a rough idea of what I was going to be wearing tonight, so jewellery felt a bit too risky to buy, so I left it at that, aside from some toiletries and a new simple outfit - a skirt and a shirt. None of the other women I have seen here have worn pants.

It was an hour and a half until Mr Sinclair was to pick me up. I had retrieved my dress and return back to my apartment, nerves getting the better of me.

When I had seen the dress, it was hard to smile and say I liked it, not because I didn't like it - it was gorgeous, but because it was for me. I could imagine a fair lady wearing it…but me? I was no fair lady! That was for sure.

It was simple like I was foretold, but the material was a deep twilight blue giving off a slight sheen in the light as it was made of pure silk. Pure silk! The cut was modest like I ask, covering up my chest and forming into straps going around my neck. The back was bare.

I showered before putting the dress on. It fitted so well too, but when I look in the mirror, I didn't see Charlie. Maybe a 'Miss Sage' which everyone seem to call me, but not a Charlie that Jenny calls me. Not the Charlie who would call eating meat other than chicken 'fine dining' and stayed up late watch cheesy horror films, mocking the characters. 'Miss Sage' was indeed a fair lady…to be.

With a light dusting of makeup and sorting out my hair as best I could, I admired my work. In the bathroom mirror and almost lost my balance when the door bell sounded, and I snapped my head to the clock. Where had all the time gone?

I opened the door slowly to reveal a polished Mr Sinclair, though still technically wearing the same attire as earlier, side from maybe a new shirt and a waistcoat. His hair had been combed and parted off to the side, his tie had been retied and as I stepped out of the apartment towards him, I could smell a soft hint of cologne.

Mr Sinclair's eyes on me sent blood straight to my face, and I only hoped the my foundation was enough to hide it.

"My, my. You do tidy up, very…very nicely." He smiled, and for a second I thought he was being sleazy but his expression didn't seem creepy enough. But still…

"You seem surprised?" I inquired suspiciously, there was no humour in my tone.

"Well, I see someone isn't used to getting a compliment. I'll just have to keep slipping them in until you're used to them." Mr Sinclair held out his arm for me to take, and reluctantly I took it.

We took a Bathysphere to a few distinctions, and walked to most others. It was pleasant this time of night, quiet and empty. Children apparently had curfew at six in the evening until the age of 16. This allowed families to have quality time together, and of course the adults to have time to themselves. I learned where many things were and the odd thing about Andrew Ryan, and all the things one could do in Rapture, but nothing on any businesses involving Mr Sinclair. He choose his words carefully, and as did I. Any personal questions I diverted, some well, some terribly obvious. I knew Mr Sinclair could see what I was doing, but that was no longer the point. The longer he stays closed off to me, the longer I'll just have to do the same. It's not like I had much to say about myself, but he doesn't know that.

We stopped at the 'Kashmir Restaurant' taking our seats tucked off to the side. Other men and women dressed equally nice as me, or nicer even, ate, exchanging small talk with their partners. When the waitress came along with menus, Mr Sinclair turned them down, and ordered off the top of his head, for both him and I, along with an expensive sounding wine.

"Been here much then?" I questioned, smirking a little.

"What gave it anyway?" And our banter began.

"Oh let me think, perhaps its was you ordering like you've only ever eaten one thing in your life here, or perhaps the way the waitresses eyes lit up when she saw you…guessing you've been here enough times to be acquainted." I teased. Technically making up the part about the waitress

"The waitresses eyes lit up?"

"Mmmm maybe, or perhaps she just got something out of her eye…" Did that even make sense?

"Or perhaps there is something yours?" He leaned back.

"Maybe with all of your businesses, you just must be famous."

"I would find that hard to believe."

"Really? Because I disagree."

"Augustus Sinclair owns many businesses, but whose to say I'm Augustus Sinclair."

I thought about this for a second too long and he beat me to a response.

"I got you there didn't I?"

"Well, if to say you weren't Mr Sinclair, and since I have no proof you are, then I suppose you might know Mr Sinclair well?"

"Don't know the man."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Then I suppose I should go to find him…" I was readied myself to get up, "…I believe I have to meet up with him soon, it's a pity you're not him…"

"So you're not interested in getting to know the man who has ordered you dinner?"

"Oh I don't know…Can you tell me about Mr Sinclair?"

He paused, thinking, a sly smile still on his lips from our game.

"Oh perhaps I can tell you a little…" I had won. I settled back down and waited for him to begin. "Firstly, I can tell you that 'Mr Sinclair'..… is me."

"No…" I gasped.

"I'm afraid so… and I can tell you that you just happened to have signed a contract to me…"

"Oh come on," I replied slightly impatient, "surely there's something more interesting to say."

"And that contract stated for you to not inquire about confidential information."

"And what is confidential?"

"Perhaps, oh I don't know. Persephone for starters."

"And what makes Persephone confidential?"

"Nice try, but you're not getting anymore."

"It's a prison, why would that be a secret?" Mr Sinclair's expression on me became increasingly amused as I searched him more desperately for loose answers. I was losing fast at the game I started. "Why can't I speak of it? Why did you let me out if it was so confidential?"

He signed, then leaned in to talk in my ear, in which I craned in, excited for answers, feeling his breath down my neck, giving me chills, increasing the tension further. Waiting for his southern accent cause me too shiver.

"I refuse to answer that on the grounds of 'I don't want to'."

I pulled back, frowning.

After dinner, and finishing off two bottles of wine, the lightweight I was, I had to gripped onto Mr Sinclair's arm as we strolled through the streets to Fort Frolic. Sinclair's Spirits was easily missed, closed up, lacking the neon lights which every other store had. Inside was polished wooden floors, steel tables and bar. With a flick of a switch, purple and green lights lit up, and gave a nightclub atmosphere. A small platform with the expanse of the ocean behind it produced a small stage.

Mr Sinclair talked about idea he had for amateur performers to get known here, and give cheap entertainment, but I half tuned him out, with the alcohol pumping through my veins, I walked to the window, and looked out. It was too dark to see much at all, and the purple lighting inside didn't help. Instead I could see Mr Sinclair approach me in the reflection. He stood beside me.

"I think I ought to take you home soon."

"What, why?" I looked at him, why was he so collected?

He smiled gently at me, reaching arm around my waist loosely, as to guide me out.

"Do you normally intoxicate your employees?"

"Normally my employees aren't lightweights."

"You make me sound bad." I was mildly hurt when he didn't something along the lines of 'I never do this' or 'no, only you', or something like that. Like I was special. Why would I want to be special? I was just a silly girl he was managing.

After farewelling him at my apartment, I couldn't even be bothered getting changed, I simply stripped down, draped my dress over a chair, and fell into bed.


	9. Banter

Chapter Nine: Banter

Ring Ring

Ring Ring

Ring Ring

Ring Ring

Ring Ring

Owwwwww

Groaning and twisting, shoving a pillow over my head, doing what little I could to muffle the irritating ring of the phone. When it finally stopped, I thought it was over, yawned, rolling over to go back to sleep.

But no.

It took two more times before I finally got up to pick it up, partly expecting Jenny on the other end, who else would be this persistent?

"Hello?" My throat croaked, dry.

"Three times. It took me three times. You better have had a lovely sleep in Miss Sage, because I am NOT paying you for it."

Mr Sinclair's strong southern accent was unmistakeable. "Sounds like someone didn't get a good nights rest" I grunt.

"Start interviewing, I want this bar up and running."

I rolled my eyes, muttering "Your wish is my command, Master." Hanging up.

I had selected the top ten out of 34 resumes I received, dismissing people below the age of 21 for starters, and then going for the people that sounded most mature, and confident with people.

I organised interviews for this afternoon and tomorrow to be held at Sinclair's Spirits, having 30 minutes per interview, and an interview every hour, giving me time to quickly run over drills, see what they got to offer me for their first impression, and having time also, to analyse them in my own time afterwards.

I was halfway through all the interviewees by the time 7pm had came round. The rest would be done tomorrow.

There was already a few I would consider. Take Courtney. She was bubbly, busty, and flirtatious. Exactly the type Mr Sinclair would want to be working here, but she was slow with service. Didn't know many drink orders, and they tasted a bit off and out of balance. But that's something she could improve on.

The men which came in were much easier to analyse, they either had it all, or none of it. A few of them were completely over their heads, and thought it was all about picking up girls in the bar.

When I got home, I found another couple more Resumes in my pneumo along with a note from Mr Sinclair, saying he had another ad put in the papers for an unpaid position performing at the bar and I too expect recordings of people wanting to perform.

And so that was my life for the next few days, interviews, listening to music recordings, writing up peoples details and finally, making an official set date for our opening, Friday next week. It's later than what Mr Sinclair probably wanted, but I don't think that would be possible without presenting to the public one giant shit show.

I had six employees, and a biweekly schedule. They were happy to work in pairs, one man and one woman per night. For the first few weeks I would be working along side to make sure all goes smoothly. Everyday I had them come in, familiarise themselves and make drinks. I too, had a lot to learn about making drinks.

With some discussion to Jenny, she decided to bring a few - however many that is, of her friends the night before opening to have a small party and give my employees first hand experience, for 50% off all drinks.

And so that's where we are today.

I had one of the performers on my list to come down tonight as well. She had a beautiful voice, and played the guitar while standing in front the microphone on stage.

It was a nice calm evening, and the employees took turns taking orders. I reminded them that there would only be two of them working at once, and not all six, so they ought to expect a much busier time in the future, but the experience they were having now was valuable, and I could see their confidence and ease behind the bar grow.

Jenny introduced me to a few of her theatre friends, and though they only seemed to talk about the various of musicals and performance they were in, they were nice enough.

Mr Sinclair was nowhere to be seen, and it was relieving. He had been breathing down my neck a lot for moving the opening date a few days later, and using up the stock on training, not selling, which is partly fair.

"Ok, ok, Charlie, I'm going to make something up completely, and tell the cute guy with the red shirt to make it for me." Jenny leaned on me, giggling like she had came up with the most savage plan.

"I guess, but don't be mean to him." I say, allowing her. Someone else was going to come along and do something similar at one point or another, so might as well introduce them to the idea. I followed Jenny to the bar, watching her as she leaned forward seductively, battering her eyes and looking up suggestively, asking for some made up concoction.

I was impressed to see how comfortably Jacob handle the situation by flirting back subtly while trying to find clues as to watch she was talking about, like colour and flavour. He was going to improv the drink. Let us just hope it goes well.

A few minutes later, a bright pink liquid in a tall glass was produced. Jenny eyed him as she tasted it, frowning and moaning in pleasure.

"That is amazing. This is delicious. You should name this something!" I leaned over, taking the drink from her hand and tasting it. She was right. It was really really good. I handed the glass back and turned to Jacob, complimenting his abilities.

I checked on our evenings performer to see if she was holding up ok, and offered her a glass of water. She was doing well, nervous as hell, but containing it.

Tonight's evening was going far better than expected. I was even enjoying myself.

Until I turned around.

"My, my…I've got to hand it to you, Miss Sage."

"Mr Sinclair, you gave me a job and I did it. I'm glad it is up to your expectations" I side stepped around him, but the conversation wasn't over.

"Expectations, you've exceeded them. I am truly impressed."

"You know…technically we're still not open till tomorrow."

"I'm aware of that, but these people are still paying costumers, that's profit coming."

"And profit going…" I began, "I just want to clarify about my pay…"

"Not enough? I thought what I was paying would be enough…but well, I'd be happy to negotiate something you deem more appropriate …" He offered.

"No! No, no no, it's too much! I was wondering how on earth do you make a profit when most of the money will go straight to me. This bar isn't going to become some gold mine."

"No, you're right about that. But three or four bars might."

"You're going to open more" I concluded.

"Yes, and you're going to manage them."

"Oh…wonderful."

"All in good time, Miss Sage. Now, how about a drink?"

I shook my head, "I'm watching over the staff, but you can have one. You own the place."

"Remember, you have no proof of who I am…"

"Right…So what should I call you? Eugene?"

"Eugene will do just fine, Charlie." He winked at me before approaching the bar. I took this as my cue to wonder off, doing another circuit to making sure all is well and having a good time.

I hugged Jenny goodbye in which some of her other friends thought they could join in, suffocating me in the middle. When they left, I turned to assess the mess we were left with. It wasn't too bad really. I went through the stock to investigate trends in depletion as the crew cleaned up. Mr Sinclair watching while enjoying another glass. I grabbed a discarded cloth and chucked it at him.

"Make yourself useful, 'Eugene'" I emphasised.

"You're not going to make a customer do YOUR job are you now?"

"Ohh but you're the 'special' exception. You ought to be honoured." I turned back to the stocks.

"You ought to get a uniform. Perhaps something that'll flatter your curves more. Maybe a corset….mmmm I think I like a woman in a corset." Mr Sinclair rambled on.

When I had finished up, I went back to him, taking his glass out of his hand, and downing the rest of his drink myself. Swallowing, I replied, "I think you've had enough."

And he certainly looked the part. Tie loose, collar slightly rumpled and undone. Suit's jacket on the counter, sleeves rolled up. It was almost sexy, but the moment that thought came to me I had to shake it out. Mr Sinclair grinned, "Charlie taking charge. I like that in a women."

I rolled my eyes, and went over to congratulate the team and dismiss them. "Courtney and Jacob, I'll see you two tomorrow, Miranda and Felix, I'll see you Monday, and Lisa and Caleb, I'll see ya Wednesday."

I gathered my things, and readying to leave, "Are you coming, Mr Sinclair?"

"Of course, Miss Sage." He grabbed his jacket, and held out his arm to escort me.

In the Bathysphere, Mr Sinclair lit up a cigar, despite there being a sign forbidding it, but I didn't say anything. We walked up to my level, and I made sure Mr Sinclair was okay getting home, the booze seem to have mostly worn off now, and with that, I bid him goodnight.

****Three Weeks Later****

Friday night. The bar was packed, men were particularly rowdy tonight, and our evenings singer was getting a lot of attention. We had our niches dotted around the joint, the flirtatious singles battering their eyes at my employees, arm wrestlers in the back, boasting at each other about how tough they are, and the ones to watch out for, surrounding the stage. I had one of the three security men move from the bar to the stage, which helped a little to settle them a bit. I heard the sound of glass shattering. A delivery of new glasses is due in for tomorrow, and I could only hope our remaining stock could last the rest of the night.

Dustpan and brush in my hands, I went over to clean up the glass, crude remarks being given to me. I simply asked them if they could leave, which to no surprise, didn't work, so I ducked over to security and had them removed. But not without an argument. Swears were spat and voices grew loud, alerting nearby people. It took all of security to remove the group of men, and I went through, making sure no one else got hurt, and apologising. Shortly after, the conflict was already forgotten.

It was about time for our performer to leave, and so I put on music over the speakers, and wished her a safe trip home. Things started calming down again. Fridays were always the worst.

I could see Jacob was dealing with his lady costumers well, Courtney on the other hand was beginning to look uncomfortable. I went over to see if she was alright. She repeated the things the man she was serving was saying, which I found very…disturbing and sexual - not anything like the crude remarks you would normally come across. Courtney had told him to leave, but he wasn't cooperating I went over to him. He grinned something sinister.

"Look, we aren't going to serve you anymore. You can either leave quietly now, or I'll have to have security take you out. Your choice."

He still smiled, and had a crazed look in his eyes I've never seen before. It made me feel sick to the stomach, but he at least moved to leave, his body so calm and composed, it didn't seem to belong to him. What was up with that man?

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see Courtney again, she leaned in to talk in my ear.

"That man…Eugene? He wants you to serve him." I looked past Courtney to see Mr Sinclair, polished up as usual and waiting patiently for my service.

"What do you want?" I asked him.

"Oh Charlie, is that really how you serve costumers. Where's that womanly charm, that flirtatious smile?"

"You want charm?" I leaned across the counter, pushing out my chest, battering my eyes, biting my lip and reached out, tugging on his tied, loosening it, locking eyes with him, briefly admiring his deep hazel eyes and in a sickly sweet tone, I asked again, "Is there anything I can do for you, sir?"

"Hmmm," Mr Sinclair thought, enjoying the little act I was doing for him. "I much prefer that." He leaned in further, and that cologne he wore I could smell. "Surprise me."

I pulled back to make his drink, returning after a few minutes, holding the drink out of his reach, causing a look of confusion. "Beg for it." I smirked.

His eyes darken, a sly smile creeping up on his face. "Oh Charlie. You're really going to make your boss beg?"

"Oh but whose to say you're my boss" I winked, "Eugene."

He chuckled, before over dramatically saying, "Charlie my darling! I'll do anything…any-thing…you wish if I could have that drink."

I laughed. "Hey, begging suits you." I gave him the drink, and he winked back.

"I also talked to your employee over there… Working everyday for three weeks? Your position is manager…you do know that right?"

"I know, I gotta make sure they are alright. You look after your assets…and so do I."

Mr Sinclair shook his he before taking a swig at his drink and replying. "Tomorrow, I forbid you from working. I forbid you from stepping foot into this bar. Go out, meet someone new, have some fun."

"You're kidding me right?" But a stern look answered that for me. "Fine!" I sighed.

"That's my girl."

I topped up his glass every so often, and after hours, escorted him to the Bathysphere. It was a sweet way to end the night. You know, sometimes Mr Sinclair really gets under my skin, but at these times, it's not so bad, he treats me more as a friend than some employee, which I suppose is how it is meant to be, but friendship is a much nicer alternative.

Perhaps I should give him the wake up call in the morning, just to irritate him, give him a taste of his own medicine from a few weeks ago…


	10. Safety Dance

Authors Note:

So… this is the first chapter I have written for this story in about two years…

Ya

I fell in and out and back in with this fandom, and was trying to come up with a new story, and it's hard to not repeat ideas after reading a whole heap, but I came back across this and thought, 'hey, this wasn't super terrible.' So I've edited a wee bit in the previous chapters and see how I go continuing this story. I've done more research on Rapture, and so I'm noticing small things that weren't correct or particularly realistic, but realism isn't how we have fun here! Otherwise Rapture wouldn't even exist.

Anyway, I hope you people enjoy this story I'm bringing back from the dead, and let me know how your finding it. Don't be a stranger.

Chapter 10: Safety Dance

It was my day off today, and I couldn't help but feel stressed for tonight. I keep telling myself it'll be fine, they know the drill, they have my number and the security will keep an eye out, but still. Hard to let go.

Jenny heard about my day off, and ceased the opportunity to take me out tonight. "Have you had ANY fun since coming to Rapture?" She question. I argued that I enjoyed my work, but she wouldn't have it. "I know this very neat club. It's exclusive, but I can get you in." And so it was set for tonight around eight.

For the meanwhile, I turned to a small stack of papers. At least today I would be able to set time to sort though the bills and the few extra resumes the bar had accumulated. I was considering upping the amount of bartenders we have per night - especially Fridays and Saturdays, since Mr Sinclair was keen to open a new joint soon. I also need to appoint a head supervisor to take charge for stock checks etc. Sitting at my desk, I ran a hand through my hair.

By late afternoon, I finished the paperwork in full, for the first time since beginning at this job. Normally I would be preparing the bar at this time for tonight, and getting into contact with our performer of the night, but I put Jacob in-charge of that tonight. It was like a trial for him, as it is likely I'll appoint him head supervisor. He was very good at what he does and often showed initiative even after hours.

I walked to the phone, fore filling my promise to ring Jenny as soon as I was done with work. She was prompt in announcing that she was on her way over. I smiled, and went over to put the jug on, and unlocked my door for her. A pang of deja vu hit me from one of my last days on the surface. It was a distant memory now. Haven't thought about my life from up there for a long time now.

When Jenny arrived, her arms were carrying a couple of dresses, along with a large case of makeup. I laughed, and helped her unload. "Couldn't make up your mind?"

"Well, I wanted to see what you were wearing, so I brought a small selection."

"I think you'll be happy to know, I have actually put some thought it what to wear." I say, beckoning for her to follow me into my room, and rummaged through the wardrobe. I pulled out a soft and flowy dress, made with multiple layers of fabric. It didn't just hang limply, but it was a gentle material that would just draped over my body, stopping at mid-shin. The lower half composed of two layers, the bottom being a plain solid powered blue shade, and the top being a loose, flowy, transparent layer of the same colour. The layers connect together to a thick ribbon waist tied into a bow at the back. The bust was heart shaped, and more transparent material formed short flowy sleeves

"Ohhh that's a very lovely dress, Charles." I snickered at the nickname. It'd been a long time since I heard that one. "What shoes have you got to go with it? And jewellery?"  
"Ummmm." I hadn't got that far.

"Let's see what you've got…" Jenny jumps up and dives into my wardrobe, coming out moments later with a pair of strappy silver heels. "Here, these are perfect."

"Alright, now what are you going to wear?" I ask, looking over the pile of dresses on the couch.

"I think…." She thought for a moment, "…since you're going so modest, so should I…" she frowns for a moment before picking up an off-the-shoulder golden dress, "…go with this. The neckline is higher, and I really do like sparkles" She grins, waving the dress in the light and having it twinkle.

We had fun getting ready, and Jenny was good at helping me with my makeup and hair. I ended up burrowing some of her silver jewellery as well for final touches.

We walked through the streets of Fontaine's Department Store. Other fine dressed couples walked by, and nodded to us, biding us a good evening.

As we approached the Manta Ray Lounge, we became immersed in the red glow illuminating from the neon lights. A suited man kindly directed us to drop off our coats and to head upstairs. I grinned childishly at Jenny who returned the excitement. We head upstairs, the sound of music grew until we pushed open the sparkling doors, and it was like coming up from underwater. Conversations, laughter, flirting, cheering. A waiter appeared beside us, greeting us with a handsome I felt immediately flattered, but also nervous.

"Care for a drink ladies?" Both Jenny and I accepted a glass of champagne. I downed it quickly.

We took seats near the bar, and searched the crowds together. I know what was on Jenny's mind. "Spot any lucky men yet?" I ask.

"Plenty." Jenny chuckled. "But they gotta earn their way with me."

A few drinks later, a young man approached Jenny and asked for a dance. She looked at me to ask if I would be okay and I smiled. "Off you go!" and I shooed her off. It was nice watching her dance. She was incredibly good, and looked so happy. And so was I.

Feeling like I needed a break from drinking, I walked across the club to it's incredible exposure of the ocean. Though it was dark, staring into the abyss was still enchanting. I twisted my hair with one finger, and crossed one foot in front of the other, leaning into the rail. Mind reaching back into future business plans. I found I enjoyed being in control of the bar, and though the idea of being in charge of more was intimidating, I was becoming fond of being the one to hold the chains of the business - it was intoxicating in its own way. No wonder why Sinclair had his hand in so many pockets. It was addictive. But that man is much more cunning, and is hiding something big. "Persephone…" the word slipped through my lips. What a fascinating name to give a detention facility… Perhaps—

"What's a fine young lady doing 'ere by 'erself?" I almost fell over, twisting round to see tall man looking down upon me. Less than a moment later I was able to fix my shocked state, and smiled sweetly.

"Hi there…" Does he know who I am?

"Oh I didn't mean to scare you, doll." The man spoke as gently as his thick accent would let him. "How about a dance." He held out his hand. "I would be very honoured to get to you know Miss…?"

"Sage." I took his hand, feeling small, and walked away small way from the railing. I glanced up and could swear he was smirking. Is he playing me?

He stopped and turned to me, nonchalantly placing his hand on my back and holding the other in his hand. I glanced over to see what another couple were doing, before awkwardly placing my other hand on his shoulder. Slowly, we stepped to the music. Nerves we bubbling up inside of me. This all felt so much more intimate and proper than 'social dancing' back in high school.

"You should look up more when you waltz. Helps you look like you know what you're doing, Miss…..Sage." He whispered next to my ear. I snapped my head up to meet his dark eyes, then awkwardly laugh.

"It's been a while…" I explain.

"Perhaps you need a drink?" He offers and lets go of my hand, using his other hand on the small of my back to guid me further into the depths of the club. First we were squeezing passed people, before it thinned out, and we reached some booths. I was directed to a seat. Two glasses were bought out, as well as a bottle of bourbon. The man filled the glasses, handed one to me, and turned to shut the curtain.

"Thanks." I say as he sits down. He raised his head in acknowledgment, before leaning back on the sofa that curved around the wall. I crossed my legs, leaning forwards comfortably, hands clasped around the cool glass.

After a few moments of silences between us, the man spoke something that took me by surprise. "You're a sly little one." I frown confused, and didn't respond. He smirks. "I see your a wee bit confused. Let's take a moment to think back to a few weeks ago." I continue to look at him, not sure where he was going with this. "Still nothing?"  
"No. Do we know each other?" I finally speak.

"I s'pose we don't. But I've watched you for a while now. Name is Fontaine. Frank Fontaine." My eyes grew wide as I connected the dots. Suddenly I remember the burning of files I had done earlier in order to get to Rapture… and how I was just let go… thought I was forgotten about. "There we have it." Fontaine smiles. My stomach drops and I slowly I uncross my legs, becoming stiff. "Tell you what, Dollface, I didn't expect to see you out here tonight. Seemed as though your were married to ya work and all, but when I saw you, I though to myself, 'Now there's a girl that doesn't know how to stand out.' Thought may thats exactly was I be needing right about now." Fontaine takes a moment to down his drink before leaning forward to refill his tumbler. "All you have to do is dig up some dirt on a wee list of people. Should be right up your alley."

"I'm doing fine, thanks." I placed my glass on the table and stood up, ready to leave. My gut was telling me to run and I wasn't going to argue.

"Oh yes, you gotta nice place you got in Mercury Suites, don't ya." That stopped me. "Yea, I know exactly who you are, and you're going to do exactly what I say."

Fear rushed through me. He knows where I live, so he probably knows where I work, and about Jenny. Panic took over my mind. "Now sit your ass back down." He said, threateningly. I slowly turn back around, balancing myself on the very edge of the sofa. He tipped the rest of his drink down his throat, before putting it back on the table next to my full drink. Fontaine reached into his pocket and pulled out a photograph. "Thomas Worthington. Works in electrical engineering. I want to know everything about him. His family, his friends, his favourite drink. When and where he is, you find out. He talks to someone, you note it down. He takes a piss, you better know it." I look at the photograph of the man. Worn by the years he has lived. Well fed. "You have a week, and I'll find you for your report."

I looked up at Fontaine. He obviously suspects this man, why else would he want to know so much. I reached forward for my drink, swallowed it whole, grimacing slightly. I look back at Fontaine, who was waiting my response. "What's in it for me?" I can't believe I had the nerve to ask, but Fontaine wasn't looking for a coward to do his dirty work, and I wasn't about to be one.

His expression was unreadable. "You get whatever I feel like giving you." I held my eyes against his, refusing myself to look intimidated. Inside, I was crying like a baby.

"A pleasure doing business with you." I smile, as if it was an innocent transaction at the market, and took the photograph of Thomas, carefully folding it.

Fontaine watched as I got up and was about to leave before calling out. "Oh, and Miss Sage. You'd look better in a red dress."

"Thanks for the advice." I called over my shoulder.

I went to the ladies room to freshen up. My hair was still bouncy, make up intact. I still saw a lovely girl in the mirror. But I felt exposed, violated. I wanted to console with Jenny, but can I risk that? Will he know if I told her?


	11. Thomas Worthington

Chapter 11: Thomas Worthington

I had only a week. Only a week to figure out who the hell this guy was, and the worst part was, I didn't know what power this knowledge had. The thought of having some guy killed… because of me!

I paced back and forth after coming home from the club. I looked at the clock to see it was about 20 past 3. May as well stay up.

I decided to clean up the place. Not that it really needed it, but it gave me something to do. Jenny went home with a handsome man, and even if she hadn't, I still couldn't talk to her. Not about this. The whole city around now was asleep.

And Sinclair Spirits… I planned on ringing Jacob to see how things went last night. Need to call a staff meeting sometime too. And interview some more people. And double check the stocks. Oh and there was Sinclair too. Wanting to open another joint. So many plans, but how was I going to fit it all in while stalking this 'Thomas Worthington'?

With a sparkling clean apartment, I followed with a shower, and then put my hair up in rollers. Using the hairdryer, I spent the next hour, drying my hair. Normally one would sleep with their hair up, but guess plans don't alway work out. Like this week.

I found myself in a whole new part of Rapture, after ringing up Jacob and organising some interviews for next week. Hephaestus Power Facility, is the main power production source for Rapture and is located at the Southern end of the city, deep down into the depths of the ocean. It was hot down here, and the red glow was the main source of light, coming form the volcanic vents. I caught glimpses of bright molten rock in the distance outside.

An area I came too held massive turning wheels lined with copper. The sound of the machinery was so loud. I ran over to some stairs and skipped down. Walking slowly along a corridor, I heard laughing, and heavy footsteps approach. I spun area, ready to run back up the stairs, but instead, jumped into a locker, holding my breathe. From the slits in the door, I could barely make out the men stomping by. I wondered if one of them was Thomas.

When they disappeared up the stairs, I slipped out and continued back down the corridor.

A large poster of Australia Day covered the wall, and adjacent was a door, with a sign beside it saying;

'Office Of Supervisor Kyburz'

Gingerly I approached, but stopped myself and looked around for a vent instead. When I found one and got inside, the metal almost burned against my skin. I had to pull my sleeves down to stop the heat from scouring my flesh. But on I went.

By the time I reached Kyburz office, I was sweating. Inside, was nobody I could see. I could've just walked through the door. After huffing, the door opened, and stopped breathing altogether.

A man with a square face walked in and sat at the desk. I assume this was Kyburz. He resumed whatever work he was doing, and figured that staying here wasn't going to give me anything. Slowly and awkwardly I back up in the vent and start the search again.

I have no idea what time it was, but I was hot, red-faced, thirsty and had nothing to report on. I had wriggled my way to the entrance of Hephaestus, and was waiting for the men to head out from the days work, before I slip out of the vent. I was ready to passed out when I saw a group of men walk off together, and one of them was Thomas. I was sure of it. My ears perked and this, and I swear they said something to do with a tavern. Were they referring to 'The Fighting McDonagh's Tavern'? Hopefully, because I don't know where else to go.

The pub was very traditional, and English. I liked it. Nothing like the bar I ran. Older and poorer folk filled the corners of the pub. I made my way to the bartender, asked for a whiskey, and faced the room, leaning back on my stool. There I could see the group of men from Hephaestus, including Thomas.

As time goes by, more workers squeezed into the pub. I noticed that there was a large niche of women workers, as well as men.

Eventually, people departed, heading home for dinner, to their wives and family. Thomas was getting ready to leave also, bidding his co-workers farewell. I tipped the rest of my drink back and followed the man out, being sure to keep my distance.

Down and around many streets, we make it to the 'Atlantic Express'. I board on the next carriage, and watch out the window for when we disembarks. From there, I was able to follow him home, to what seemed like a modest apartment from the outside, in Artemis Suites.

Looking for a vent, I managed to find an entrance, and shimmy my way through the complex. I noted that none of the actual apartment rooms had removable covered, and so I wouldn't be able to enter Thomas' complex this way, however that may not be necessary.

Inside Thomas' apartment, I was not sure what I was looking at. Besides the basics of what an apartment has - the small dining table, and kitchenette, sofa, small TV, bathroom and bedroom, the place was littered with photos. I craned to see what they were, but the vent held me back.

The sound of a toilet flushing, and I shrink back into the shadows of the vent. Thomas came out, briefly before turning off the lights and going to his room. I couldn't see anything anymore. There had to be a way in, or something else I just haven't thought of yet…

An idea came to mind, and I wriggled my way out of the vents.

It was way into the night now. Had to stifle a yawn. I collected a lighter earlier and found a mostly used cigar, and bought it out into the open. Lighting the cigar, then tossing it into the trash, I waited for flames to ignite before popping back into a vent. In a matter of time, fire was roaring out of the trash can, smoke rising upwards to the ceiling.

Then, the crackling of the fire was drowned out by sirens. I managed to trigger the fire alarm. Within minutes, people were filing out of their apartments, children crying, and parents grumpy. Voices shouted at each other, telling people to calm down, and keep moving. Thomas walked on passed me. A few minutes later, I snuck out of the vent, keeping low, and ducked into his room. In the distance, a new siren was introduced. Must be the fire fighter. I won't have long once they find the source.

I first targeted the photos in the apartment. I picked one up. It was a flower. Another showed a different flower, and one more looked like a leaf. Open on the dining table was a tatty book, that had been well read. 'Raptures Botanicals'. So Thomas must be a botanist enthusiast. That seemed innocent enough.

Inside the bedroom, I found his camera, and clothes littered on the floor. Aside from the photos, I could find anything else of interest in the apartment, and slipped out unnoticed, before everyone trudged back off to bed.

****************A Week Later****************

I spent everyday for the rest of the week following this man. And everything seemed fine. He would work during the day, go to the pub in the evenings, and sleep. Thursday seemed like his one day off, and he would wonder through the gardens of Arcadia, carrying around his botanist book, like it was a bible. I grew to really like this guy. If things were different for him, instead of being stuck at the bottom of Rapture, he would have made a wonderful scientist. Perhaps even splicing his very own new species of plant. He seemed to have the knowledge to do so already.

Right now, I was hiding in an unused locker I managed to sneak into before work hours. The locker was in one of the work rooms I noted Thomas to be in the most. Today, he looked to be repairing something when Andrew Ryan, the man himself, walked into the work room, eyeing up some blueprints I couldn't quite see.

"Have you got the concept plans complete for me yet?" Ryan asks, monotoned, and begins pacing around the table. The men all stopped with what they were doing and looked up.

Thomas shoved aside papers and parts quickly, "…right here…..sir." and pulled out a much larger blueprint sketch. "There's still some bits and pieces….but it's looking really good…sir."

Ryan looked over the plans, nodding. "Good. I want you to start building and testing immediately."

I waited for everyone to clear out, wishing I had a camera to take a photo of the plans. Instead I sketched a rough replica, noting down important parts. It looked like an automated machine gun…why would anyone need something like this.

I unlocked my front door, stepped inside, shrugging my jacket off, ready to walk into the bedroom but froze. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and a shiver travelled down my spine. The jacket slipped from my fingers, crumpling onto the floor.

Out of the corner of my eye, a puff of smoke floated up into the air, and I finally noticed a strong aroma was present. Fists formed at my sides, and I tried to swallow down a lump in my throat. I felt heavy, and my chest constricted.

"Good evening, Miss Sage. Care for a glass?" Fontaine asks, holding up a generous filling of whiskey, slushing it around a little. I could feel my chest burn. My home now tainted.

Slowly, I walk towards the couch, foot after foot, carefully placed against the ground, heels softly clicking each time. Another cloud of smoke escaped his lips.

When I reached the couch, I took the glass from him, and sat down, leaning back and taking a large mouthful of the drink. I returned my eyes to the man in front of me.

He had made himself at home, jacket draped on the end of the couch, sleeves rolled up, revealing strong arms. He wore a waistcoat, and black tie.

His lack for hair made him look for more intimidating. I wasn't sure if it was a choice, or if he was a victim of early balding. A trimmed moustache lined his upper lip. Eyes dark.

Seeing he wasn't making a move, I pulled out my notes, tossing them onto the coffee table. Fontaine paused for a moment, before holding his cigar in his mouth, and leaning forward to collect the papers. I took a moment to close my eyes, sip my drink, awaiting his response.

"What's this?" I blink, coming back out of my mediation, to see him holding a my sketch of the blueprints.

"Blueprints I found. Don't know if it's useful, but I don't have a camera, and it was the only copy."

He grunted, and went back to looking through my works. I wondered how long this would take. Suddenly the phone rang.

Crap.

Ring Ring

Ring Ring

"I think that's for you." Fontaine spoke over the tone.

Reluctantly I moved to the phone. "Hello?"

"Charlie! It's me." Jenny. "I know you've been busy, but I just saw that a film you might like to laugh at is on tonight. I'll pick up some popcorn."

Fontaine was looking at me, and I swear he could hear her on the other end. "I….ah…" I stutter. "I'm n-not s-sure I can tonight."

"Really? I thought you would be pumped… you doing alright?"

"I-I'm good, just s-super busy. I'll ring you later though." And hung up.

"Girl's night in. Sounds like fun." Fontaine leered.

"I th-think you have over stayed your wel-welcome, Mr, Mr Fontaine." I say, losing my confidence.

"Cat's got your tongue." He stood up, walking over to me. I back up against the wall. "You look about as scared as one. What's wrong, Charlie? 'You doing alright'?" He imitates spookily well.

I clear my throat. "You have what you want. Leave. Now."

"Ohhhh, Charlie. You see…" He steps even closer, his chest almost against mine. I couldn't breathe. My heart pounding. "…I want something else from you…" I wait for him to say, but he doesn't.

He steps back, and walks away, picking up his jacket, and heading to the front door, stopping. There he picks up my discarded jacket, picks it up, and walks back to me.

Silently, he hands me the jacket, before proceeding to walk out, calling behind him, "I'll see you later."

I was alone.

Shivering.


	12. Gossip

Authors Note:

You guys, this one gets a little spicy.

Chapter 12: Gossip

Months had gone by, and I was now in charge of five separate bars, all under Sinclair's name. I found my profits too high for my liking, and was looking into donating to the recent 'Little Sister Orphanage', however, that being owned by Fontaine himself, I was skeptical. But it was for families who couldn't afford to keep their daughters… can't really be a bad thing right? So I wrote a large cheque to post later.

Mr Sinclair and I had gone out to a few dinner parties, which was good for his image. I had met the most lively, and most serious people in Rapture. The artist were so disapproving, and the businessmen so sleazy. Mr Ryan - being somewhat of a friend to Sinclair, and I were well acquainted at this point, however I could not quite see eye to eye with the man. The woman that typically accompanied him seemed nice though, Diane I think was her name. However she didn't talk much at the parties. Just stood there looking pretty.

Jenny and I saw less and less of each other now, ringing up late at night even now and again to see what was happening, but we lived in two different worlds.

However, her birthday was coming up, and I was not going to let this slide.

Today, I was shopping for a gift in High Street, when I noticed a crowd gathering. Curious, I approach.

Many people were speaking at once, and I couldn't make out what this was all about. Carefully, I push through the people, getting closer to the centre. I noticed people holding cameras, and further inside the mass of bodies, microphones started appearing in peoples hands.

"Johnny! Johnny!" I heard people call. Along with an array of questions.

"How long have you been here?"

"Does anyone know you're here?"

"What's the weather like again?"

"What exactly were you looking for in the ocean?"

I push passed another reporter to find myself stuck behind an impassable wall. Men holding cameras and keen journalists held their ground, pursuing the middle man. I go up on my tip toes, trying to find a gap to peak through. Glimpses of a young man kept escaping me, and I was unable to maintain a visual.

I listened in the hear what the man had to say, but couldn't make out a thing. Soon I was shoved out of the way, and was slowly moving back out of the crowd. Giving up, I left to continue shopping for Jenny.

The 'Silver Fin Restaurant' was busy tonight. I wonder if it ever isn't. Jenny, Franklin, Lori, Hannah and I sat in the centre of the room. The others were Jennys close friends from her theatre work. They were actually not as bad as I initially expected. Some of the theatre types tends to rub me the wrong way, however aside from Lori, they were much more down to earth than others I'd met in the past.

We were enjoying a delicious meal, when Jenny nudged me.

"Hey, is that the diver from today with Mr Ryan there?"

I turned to see a small group in the corner of the room. Mr Ryan was certainly there, as was a couple of journalists, scribbling down notes during the conversation, smiling and nodding. The interviewee was using his hands, explaining something.

Looking at him properly now, he was so much tanner than everyone else here. His hair was a light sandy blond, teeth white, eyes sparkling blue. The way he moved showed off how broad and strong he was. But so glaceful. Not at all clumsy, or bulky. Eyes shone bright, looking so genuine and happy. Looking at him talk with enthusiasm, I was happy.  
"..Chaaarlie…" Jenny's voice sounded far away. But I could turn towards her. I wanted to keep looking at this myserteous man. He was exciting.

"Charlie!"

"Mmmmm" I broke my gaze, looking around the table at to see everyone snickering.

"Someone's got a crush…." Jenny teased.

"I don't blame you. He's cute!" Franklin joined in. I felt myself blushing.  
"I heard he was looking for a wreck, but found Rapture by mistake." Hannah said.

"I heard he's from the FBI!" Argues Lori.  
"Really?" Hannah gasps.

"Do you think he'll stay?" Asks Franklin.

"He'll have too." Hannah replied.

"You should talk to him, Charlie!" Jenny says suddenly.

"Oh my gosh, yes!" Lori almost squeals.

"Ahhh, no." I shake my head, more blood rising to my cheeks. When the others whine and ask why not I quickly explain, "he's in an interview. And he doesn't know me."

"You can wait till the interview is done, and it doesn't matter if he doesn't know you. He doesn't;'t know anyone!" Franklin argues.

I roll my eyes, rising my hands. "Alright, if there is an …opportunity…I MAY go up and say a quick 'hi', okay?!"

The evening goes one, and as we finish our desserts and wine, Lori suggests going out to dance. Jenny loves the idea, bit wants something else, "Why don't we invite our little diver buddy to join us? Charlie?"

"What, no way! Anyone, this is YOUR birthday. Aren't you supposed to get set up with the guy?"  
"This is way more fun!"  
"Look Look Look!" Points Lori. "They're getting up! Go Charlie, now!"

Lori grabs my arm, trying to get me to stand, I stumble a little, but find myself walking over. Having maybe a tad more wine that I should've, I find the balls to tap the man on his shoulder, and I am faced with one of the most handsome men I have ever seen.  
"Wow."  
The man smiles friendly. "Wow." He grins, teasing me.

I bit my lip cheekily, before having the weight of what I was doing fall on me. "I'm sorry…my friends thought…" I turn to point at where they were, all watching our encounter. "…that it would be fun if you wanted to join us for a little party… it's my friends birthday…and…" I felt so stupid now. My face was on fire.

The man just smiled understandably, giving the group behind me a little wave before saying, "A night out with a ladies, I would be honoured if you'd show me where it is at in Rapture. I got the feeling you people know how to get it on."

I giggle awkwardly. "Do you mind introducing yourself. I'm sure you've done that a lot today, but the news hasn't quite got to me yet."

"Johnny. And what's you name?"

"Charlie."

"Well Charlie, you're a very sweet girl. You ready to get this show on the road?"

I nod and lead him over to the table. Shortly, we head out to the first bar.

Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep

"Ugh…" I groan, reaching out to hit the alarm to snooze. Falling back a sleep almost instantly.

Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep

My eyes flicker open again, and I was about to turn the alarm off when I notice something else moving beside me.

I froze.

"You gonna shut that damn thing off?" A low voice grunts. I quickly roll over, to be faced with a familiar face.

"John?"

His face scrunched up before open his eyes. "Morning beautiful."

My breathe catches in my throat, and my stomach does a nauseous flip flop, then involuntarily starts to contract.

I'm up and in the bathroom in a flash, heaving up dark liquids from the night out. Head spinning and pounding. There was nothing I could do, except curl around the toilet bowl.

Something drapes around my shoulders, I look to see Johnny in a pair of brief, and a dressing gown around me, concealing my exposed skin.

"Fuck." I groan.

What the hell happened last night.

"It's alllright." I felt his arms around my shoulder. "Just focus on your breathing, dear."

I don't know how long it was until I looked up. Johnny smiled softly, reaching up to flush the toilet, before fixing my hair behind my ear. "Don't remember much do you?" I shake my head. "I can catch you up later, but I think a nice long shower will do you well. I know a kind of drink that'll help settle your stomach too." And so he helps me stand, and leaves me to clean up. I didn't even want to look in the mirror to see what kind of mess I was. The shower did help ground myself though. Helped the spinning.

I emerged out in my gown, towel on my head, and slumped down onto the couch. Johnny handed me a glass with a thick mixture inside. I could smell ginger in it. "Thanks. Not really how I usually start my mornings." I say, a small smile on my lips. "You should clean up too." I add, looking at the man. He'd since put on a shirt. His eyes still puffy, hair a birds nest. Not quite as cute as I remember, but there isn't a lot I can remember at all.

"Yea… don't mind if I do."

From the lounge, I could hear the water running, then a low medley. I had to strain to listen, but the tune was recognisable.

"Somewhere beyond the sea

Somewhere waiting for me

My lover stands on golden sands

And watches the ships that go sailing"

He was good. His voice so smooth, and deep. I hummed along with him, feeling enchanted. When he emerged, I smiled. "You have a lovely voice."

He grins. "Do you sing?"

"Nah, not really very good at it. The only person I have sung with is Jenny when we were kids."

Johnny sits beside me, and I put my feet on his lap. "How long have you known each other?"

"Years. So many years." I start. Johnny mindlessly placing his hand on my of my feet, massaging it. "Met in our first year of school, and grew up together. Her parents had a TV when we were really young, and sometimes they had a song play, with the singer in it, and we would dances around, copying them." I laugh, tipping my head back. "Sounds so silly, but we thought we were so incredible. Maybe that's why Jenny went down the theatre path."

"I think that sounds pretty cool." Johnny says. "What stopped you going down the same path?"

"Mmmmm I don't know. Guess I just wasn't feeling it. The idea of performing in front of others like that. Nah."

"So what did you do?"

"I went to university…for a while."

"What happened?"

"Well, I came here."

"With Jenny?"

"Sort of…" I smile devilishly, looking back at him. He cocked his eyebrow at me. So I told him about my dad, and how he told me about Rapture years ago. And that I snuck into Rapture… without telling him the details.

"Now that sound like a much better story than mine. Should have it in the papers now…" I tell him to check the Pneumo and grab the 'Rapture Tribune' if it was there.

"Johnny Topside:

Deep Sea Explorer Discovers Our Secret"

"Ha," I say, "I like the name. Got a good ring to it."

Johnny keeps skimming though the article, brow furrowing a little. "It's more or less correct." He smirks before tossing it towards me. I read it and laugh.

"It's so dramatic. But I guess deep sea exploration can't be made out like it's walking in the park."

"Speaking of parks, got any nearby?"

"Yep."

"Wanna take me there?"

"Hmmmm" I thought briefly about the stack of paper I didn't finish before last night, dismissed it. "I think that would be fun."

Walking through Arcadia, holding hands, and just talking. I felt like I was talking to an old friend. We talked about his job, and then his home life. He followed in his father footsteps, beating the world record for deepest dive. "I don't think that record will hold." He had said. His father had gotten sick and died about a year ago. I asked about his mother. "Died when I was born. Doesn't hurt since I didn't know her, but I guess I never really had a female role model in my life." I tell him how my parents had split, and how she had left me before I came here.

"Did you have anyone special up there?" I asked.

He smiles. "You going to be jealous if I said yes?"

"No!" I stick my tongue out.

"No, no. Nobody up there for me. I was married to my work. Hard not to be when you're away for months at a time." I nod.

We continue holding hands right through til evening. "Where are you staying?"

"Ol' Andy organised me a place in 'Athena's Glory'. Big place, bigger than yours," he jabbed playfully.

Cackling, I managed to ask, 'Ol' Andy? Don't tell me you say that to him in person?"

"Ahhh no. I don't think I could get away with that. The guy hates me I swear."

"Really? Why that?"  
"Dunno, but how about we go out for a small dinner"

I agreed, and his hand had moved to my waist and he aimlessly escorted me to a casual diner.

A few waitresses asked about Johnny, one of which I swear of flirting, but I patiently grinned my teeth through it, cheering up as soon as they left. Johnny didn't hold back and teased me for it. I didn't even feel ashamed or embarrassed for being jealous. I was completely at ease with this man. Being with him made me feel warm, and safe.

When he walked me home, double, no, triple checked that I was sure I wanted to stay at my own home tonight, so I could do some work.

"For the last time, yes." I giggled, as we stopped outside my door. "But…." I wrapped my arms around his neck, balancing on my tip toes. "…I'm looking pretty free on Thursday, if you wanna do something…fun." I lean in, tempting him. His eyes locked onto mine. His breathe lingering on my lips, fingers stretched around my waist. Butterflied flittered in my chest, and I could help but to feel a gravitational pull, tugging me in.

"I definitely like do it something 'fun' with you." He whispered, edging closer.

I close my eyes, and it felt ground like the ground beneath my feet disappeared. Him and I were falling through the world, lips locked. Fingers threaded through his hair, and I could feel him pull me tighter and we sunk deeper into each other.

Slowly I moved one hand away, reaching for the door handle, and pulled Johnny inside.

The next morning, I wasn't alone at the dining table for breakfast. And so I wasn't alone to share the shock of seeing ourselves on the front cover of the 'Rapture Tribune'.


	13. Cheers

Chapter 13: Cheers

I walked into Sinclair's office for the first time in months. He sent a message the other day, hoping we could talk. I wondered if there was another bar opening.

"Charlie! It's good to see you, how's it going, m'lady?" I smiled, cocking my head to the side.

"M'lady?"

"Well, how about M'dam? Or taking it a step further, shall I refer to you as 'Your Majesty?"

"Hmmm, if so, what would you be? 'Your Highness?"

"A bit much for me. Anyway, take a seat. I've been meaning to catch up with you."

I took the seat, leaning back and resting my hands on my stomach. "What's up?" I grin.

"What's up?' He repeated. Sounded funny coming from him. "You tell me. Bar's have been bringing in all the folk, really making the profit… if I recall correctly, didn't you say that this weren't going to be a gold mine?" I shrug. "Well, I think your one to make a name for themselves. There's a party coming up, and I think it'll be a good opportunity for you to go and get some connections."

"Connections." I sit forward. "Why would I need connections when I work for you."

"I think you're capable of more than what I can give you." Sinclair smiles.

"Annnnd?" I press.

"And?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

"And you, sir, need a date." I tease, barely holding back a laugh.

Sinclair smirks, rolling his eyes. "It isn't mandatory, but it certainly helps."

"There we are!"

"Now don't you forget what I said before. You're a sharp young thing, and I really think it'll open your eyes to the world."

"Hmmm, I'll go I guess."

"You guess."

I nod, smiling, naturally.

"Very well, I'll have a dress made for the occasion." I told him it wasn't necessary but he wouldn't have it. "This is a very important occasion, and I want everyone turning heads to come talk to you."

"How about you do all the talking, and I'll just stand and watch."

"Why I'll have my own business to attend to. You'll be swell, kid!"

"Alright, Mr Sinclair."

"Augustus, please."  
"Hmmm, I like Gus better." He pierced his lips, but was amused.

"I will see you tomorrow night." As I stood to leave, Augustus called out,

"Nice photo in the papers, by the way." I couldn't help but blush, leaving quickly after.

The party was held at the 'Kashmir Restaurant'. Reds and golds splash the walls, with huge crystal chandeliers sparkling above our heads, and above that, glass revealed a deep blue expanse of the ocean. Schools of fish dart overhead, while large shadows loom further out into the abyss.

Tonight, I was decorated in purple and silver, embellished with diamonds that covered the upper portion of my dress. My fingers had been meticulously constructed and painted earlier, and silver streaks weaved into my hair sparkled in the light.

I walked in, arms linked with Augustus Sinclair.

Less than a minute upon entering, a man approached us, greeting Augustus first, then turning to me.

"It is certainly a pleasure to meet you, Miss?"

"Sage." I reply, chin up. Augustus gave me a peep talk before hand, that in order to be taking seriously as a female in the business world, I don't just have to be sure of myself, but let everyone know of it. Confidence and pride. Play the part to be the part.

"Miss Sage." The man bent down, to place his lips on my hand. Never have I had that happen to me!

"Mr Ronson," Augustus addresses the man, "Miss Sage here is in charge of the Sinclair Spirits chain. Impressively it has grown at consistently positive rates and…" he goes on boasting about my works. Under my makeup, I am blushing a little. The way he puts it, makes me proud of what I have achieved. Mr Ronsons eyes lit up.

"Well I must admit, I wouldn't have expected such results from a lady in the alcohol industry…"

I speak up, feeling like now is a good cue. "Mr Ronson, please, you wouldn't receive such results from anyone but a woman. You see, your first mistake is assuming that it is simply an 'alcohol industry'" I say, forming quotable marks with my hands. "You are catering to a market with so much levels and complexity and it is not a one size, fits all equation."

We talk a little longer, until Sinclair escorts me further unto the room, leaning in to whisper in my ear. "Not bad, but men don't like to be condescended."

"We'll I don't know how to make an impression and not hurt their ego" I reply, before looking back up as we stop in front of someone else.

"Fontaine, good to see you" Augustus brings his hand forward to shake his.

"You too, and who might this be?" Fontaine pipes up, looking down on me. I swallow hard, but put my chin up, and look him hard in the eyes.

I throw my hand forward, and introduce myself before Augustus had the chance. "Sage. And what is it that you do, exactly, Mr Fontaine?" I hiss.

His hand covers mine and gives it a good squeeze, it almost hurt. I don't dare break eye contact.

"Why I'm more involved with the science industry these days, but I dabble in a few Industries here and there…"

"Science, aye?" I inquire, "Why don't you tell me more?" We release our hands from each other, and Fontaine clears his throat.

"Certainly, if you would to take a seat, Miss Sage." Fontaine offers politely.  
"I think I'll go catch up with a few people, if you don't mind." Augustus interjects, looking between Fontaine and I. I nod, ready to follow Fontaine to a deserted table, being held up briefly as Augustus leans in to tell me something. "Careful, chief. This man is like playing with fire." With that, he leaves.

Fontaine, still behaving like a gentlemen, pulls out a chair for me, and sits opposite me, leaning in close. I decide that tonight, I was feeling cocky, and leaned in close to the man.

My heart was in my throat.

"Nice act you got going for you kid."

"Oh honey," I say in a sweet sickly tone, blinking innocently, smirk on my lips. "I'm not the one who is acting."

"Looked in the mirror lately? Notice how nobody has a clue who the hell, you, are." Fontaine drones, accent becoming particularly thick. "You ain't Charlie the stowaway here. You ain't the mystery girl in the magazines. You're Miss Sage… lady…whatever."

"Oh, and you aren't Frank…ring leader, con-artist, here…" I say, smirk becoming more sinister.

His hand clasps over mine, nails digging in. I flinch, smirk gone. "I'd be careful what you say, Charlie."

I swallow, and breathe in deep. He can't hurt me here, I reassure.

His nails come out of my skin, leaving indentations, and his fingers dance over my hands, brushing over the jewels that adorned them.

"Did you get to choose these?…Or did Sinclair get the honour of dressing you up tonight? Hope your Johnny boyo isn't too jealous. Does he know your here?"

"Of course." I retract my hand. "But what's it to you?"

He takes in a deep breathe, exhaling slowly. Our faces were still so close, I could feel it pass over my neck and chest, giving me goosebumps. "Why don't you come on over to my office tomorrow?"

"What if I'm busy?"

"What if I come to your home instead?" I huff slightly. "Come after hours. And we'll talk."

With that, he leans back, fresh cool air filling the gap between us, but he didn't get up yet. Instead, he glances around, to see that there was a song playing, and couples were up dancing. Many of the women here were hired to please the business men, few had partners to take. It made the atmosphere of the evening less about a business affair, even if that was exactly what it was.

"Care to dance?" Fontaine asks.

I squint a little, brow furrowing, but stand up, and take his hand.

Silence between us grew, but, unlike the first time, I didn't have to look around to see what others were doing. I knew exactly what I was doing.  
"How's the orphanage coming along, Mr Fontaine?"

"Very well, Miss Sage."

"And may I ask, why only little girls?"

"Because, Miss Sage." He leaned into my ear. "Little girls need protecting."

I play along, and lean up into his ear. "And what exactly, are you protecting the little girls from?"

A low chuckle escapes, as if he knew something. "You'll find out…someday."

The rest of the evening we by quickly. Our dance was short, and I was later whisked away by Augustus, introducing me to various men, showing me off. I made small talk, and used my words carefully. Honestly, talking with Fontaine was far more enjoyable. He knows me, and instead of keeping up an act, it was more like playing a card game. Poker, perhaps.

I collected a bunch of business cards, tossing them in the trash on the way out, as I was escorted home. Augustus stopped me at my front door, having me spin around for him one last time.

I laugh. "Stop now, I know you're very proud of 'your' work…" I said, signalling to myself, "but your work needs to go to sleep now."

"You gave a real big impression tonight. I think a few of the men were intimidated by you. But really, Charlie, you look dazzling."

"Thanks" I smile.

I walk in the door, to see my favourite man asleep on the couch. Johnny has been staying with me the last couple of nights. It was so nice to come home to someone. Seeing him as I walked through the door made my insides mush. I carefully took off my heels, and tiptoed over to the couch, straddling the unsuspecting man.

He groans as I grind on him, lifting up my dress.

"Back so soon." He reaches up, letting my hair fall down.

"Mmhmm." I moan

"Damn, girl" I undo his jeans, feeling him grow underneath me. "You don't want to go to the bedroom for this?"

"Right here is good." I whisper, leaning down to kiss him.


	14. Tragic Evening

Chapter 14: Tragic Evening

Fontaines office was huge. Emerald carpet stretched along the floor, and golden tiles decorated the ceiling. Massive oil paintings covered the walls. Further down, large pillars hold the structure up, and in front of the glass wall at the back of the room, a white metallic bear towered over a mahogany desk.

"Who needs an office this big?" I wonder aloud. Fontaine sticks his head around a corner to the side of the room.

"No one. But I like what money gets me."

He walks out, head high, carrying two drinks over. "Come sit." I follow him, sitting in front of his desk, while he paces behind him. I sipped my drink.

"You seem stressed."

"You're going to do me a solid, alright. And I want it done tonight."  
"Hold up. What? I got plans tonight." I snap.

"Plans with Johnny?" He rolls his eyes. "But this has to get done. Faster you do this, the faster you can run along to your little date."

I cross my arms. "Sorry, pal, but you don't exactly sit high on my priorities."

Fontaine spins around, slamming his glass on the desk. "YOU! Don't get to choose."

I'm sitting up straight now. Stunned.

"Now I got that wee beetle hot on my trail again, and need a diversion. So tonight, you're going to go to fetch me the man, bring 'em 'ere, and make him think you're going to fuck him like the whore you are."

Fuming, I stand. "Excuse me pal, but I ain't taking that shit from you! You gotta problem? Don't take it out on me!"

Fontaine was around the table in a flash. "Listen 'ere, girlie, I've stuck my neck out for you enough. And if you wanna go back home to some guy, be my guess, but I promise you, it ain't gonna last."

He towers over me. "You threatening me?"

"Yea, I am." He huffs.

"You don't scare me."

He growls, a hand snatches my neck. I choke. His breath was hot on my face, and I claw at his arm. Black spots dotting my visual, I tried to blink them away. My heart was pounding in my head.

His face contorted, and I found myself on the floor, heaving. A chair flew passed me but I barely noticed. In front of my eyes on the floor was scattered glass, from the drink I once held.

"He's at your bar on High Street."

I glare at him, but feeling unable to talk. I stand up slowly, ready to storm out.

"Just do this for me." Fontaine sighs, a hand coming down his face. I walk up to him. Is that vulnerability I see. My hand slaps hard on his face. And I walk out.

I was prepared to ignore him, but figured that it won't take long to draw this guy out, and perhaps the man will leave me alone.

Like many men, he was alone at the bar, I slip beside him and start up a friendly conversation. Eyeing me up and down, he was on board quickly, and I was able to drag him along behind me.

"Fontaine Futuristics. God lady, why bring me here? Fontaine's such as ass. You don't work for him do you?"

I shrug, "Sort of, but I agree with you. He can get fucked. That's why were here, to fuck on Mr Fontaine's desk" I smile, giggling flirtatiously.

"Giggle like that again, you sound like a little girl." He grabs me roughly. I giggle again, keeping up the act. "Mmmmm, you're so little" he was holding me now, I try and pull away. "Nah, nah, nah. Let's go back to mine. I got some friends you could meet."

I scowl. "Friends. Oh baby, I just want it to be you and me."

"Don't call me baby, baby. Call me Daddy." Oh I see now. He has a fetish.

"Mmmkay, Daddy. Come in here, Daddy."

"Oh I know exactly where I want to come in." The man was a sleaze. I pull him into the office looking around, not seeing anyone.

Where was Fontaine.

"Something the matter…"  
I shake my head, and smile. "No, just checking whether someone was here."

We make it to the desk, and he shoves everything off it. Papers fall to the floor. I'm thrown down on the desk, wind knocked out of me. "Come on, baby. Moan for me."

"Mmmm" I try. He is on me fast, pulling at my dress. In the back of my mind, I fear Fontaine isn't going to come at all. What if he didn't think I was going to do what he asked. This man repulsed me. I tried to push his hands anyway.  
"Come on. You know you want this. Who's you Daddy?" He leered.

"Stop." I say, still pushing his hands away. "Get off."  
"Shut up, brat." I struggle more, when heat hits my face, leaving a sting. My dress is pulled up, and I squeeze my legs shut. "Open up, bitch!" He struggles with my legs.

Suddenly he's gone.

Fontaine is in front of me. He leans down, relentlessly beating the man on the floor. I quickly stand and fix my dress, then walk around to see Fontaine still beating the man. He was out cold.  
"Stop! Fontaine!" I shout out, but he doesn't hear over the heavy breathing and sound made when fist meets face. "FRANK!" I yell, holding my hands out in front of him.

He looks up, rage in his eyes. I lean forward to place my hands on him. "It's okay."

He shrugs me off. Stands and makes a call on the phone. I don't know who he called, but all he needed to say was "got him here" before hanging up.

I walk around the body on the floor, slowly approaching Fontaine, terrified. His head snaps up. "You should go. It's going to get messy."

I step back. "Right…" I felt uneasy.  
"And Charlie. You should ring me if you…get into anymore trouble."

I nod, before walking home. I didn't feel like date night tonight.

Perhaps Johnny would be happy staying in.

The front door was hanging from its hinge. I froze. Not a sound could be heard. "John?" I call out meekly.

Pushing the door slowly, feeling as if it would fall off, I walk in. Everything was trashed. Table flipped, chairs smashed, draws emptied. Running in, turning my head, not one thing had been left untouched.

My kitchen, my room, my valuables.

Pictures of me and Johnny were gone. Other picture frames dismantled and broken. The couch…

The couch.

Johnny would often fall asleep there. Now, blood spattered the arms and back of the seats. I choked, and fell to my knees.

A sob got stuck in my throat.

My chest. God my chest hurt.

The phone suddenly rang.

And rang.

And rang.

Shakily, I got up, and picked up the phone.

Whoever was on the other line, didn't speak. Nor did I. A shiver ran down my spine.

I hung up, walked around the remains of my room, then had a thought.

Climbing up to the chandelier, almost toppling over, I checked the bulbs, and there! A tiny device was found in one of them. And there, a small label I could barely make out to be 'Ryan Industries'. I dropped the device, grab a medium kitchen knife and ran out.

Where do I go? I thought of Augustus, he would look after me…but…he is somewhat on friendly terms with Ryan. What if something slips? Jenny? I couldn't. I just couldn't.

'You should ring me if you…get into anymore trouble'

The words echo in my mind. Does Fontaine know something? My hands tighten around the knife, sweating.

"If I'm starting anywhere, I'm starting with him."

Outside the office, I could hear exhausted cries. I paused, wiping the tears from my eyes.

"Ohhhhh GAWWW—" A drill tuned out another cry, but if you listened closely, you could hear a faint gargling. As soon as the drill stopped, I swung open the door and marched in.

I felt like fire was all around me.

"HEY!" A big guy stomped towards me, but I held my knife up.  
"Woah! It's alright Reggie. Just a frie—" Fontaine starts, but I'm there already, knife against his neck.

"WHERE IS HE?"

Fontaine backs up. "Charlie, I'm in the middle of something. I told you to ring me, no—"

"WHERE. IS. HE?" I ask again.

"Can this—"

"NO!" I shriek, holding back sobs. "He's gone." Tears stream down. "Just tell me." I beg. The knife in my hands slip, and I fall to my knees. Fontaine crouches down next to me.

"You really want me to tell you now?"

"YES!" I cry, hands covering my face. I thought I be stronger than this.

"Persephone."

The sobs stop. I take a moment to think before squeaking out "…what even is Persephone? I thought it was just a prison." Fontaine sighed, but I continue. "Can I get him out. I can bail him out. Whatever he did it probably was a mistake. It can't be—"

"Charlie." Fontaine hand comes down onto my shoulder. "He's not coming back. Ryan put him there."

This time I look at him. "Why?"

He shrugs. "Guy is superstitious." He moves to pull me up. "Kid, you gotta go home. No place for a lady here." I shake my head.

"My place is bugged. I can't go to Gus, and I don't want to bring Jenny into all this." My lip trembles.

Fontaine huffs. "Look 'ere. I got business." He points to the man tied down onto the desk, falling in and out of consciousness, blood still oozing out of his mouth. A couple of teeth lay beside him.

"What's his problem?" I sniff. Remembering how he treated me earlier, I felt anger.

"Confidential" Fontaine tries to lead me out. "Why don't you wait outside…"

I wriggle out of his arm and approach the desk, looking down at the man.

'Reggie', the other guy, looked to Fontaine, slightly alarmed, and confused.

Mindlessly, I pick up a knife, and drag it gently along his arms, up over his shoulder, down his stomach. The cold metal sent shivers down his spine, goosebumps forming. I smile softly. "Hello Daddy…" I cooed.

His eyes snap open, a whimper escapes, but he coughs some more blood up. I continue to trace the knife around. "Tell me, Daddy. What are you doing here?" He starts whimpering more, sobbing. "Shhhhh." Tears form in my eyes, as I imagine Johnny going through a similar experience. If I was there, if I didn't waste my time on this man, this disgusting man, would Johnny still be with me. I stop the knife at the belly button. "Shhhh, it can't have been that bad…"I slowly plunge the tip of the knife down. He shrieks and thrashes.

"STOP! STOP!"

"Oh the man speaks!" I crack a laugh, sniffing again. Eye's becoming wet again. "Tell me, Daddy. Whatcha ya doing 'ere" I laugh.

I feel arms around me, one hand reaching over mine. "Charlie." Fontaines voice came in my ear.

Blood spilled out around the knife, my grip tighten. "Charlie…" Fontaine tried again.

Suddenly I twist the knife, snapping my head around to face him, nose to nose, however with tears blurring my vision, I couldn't make out his expression. "WHAT!" I spit.

"Let it go."

"NO!" I cry, yanking the knife down the mans stomach, the flesh almost, popping open. The man on the desk let out a bloodcurdling yell.

Reggie leaned down to the man, yelling in his face. "WHO DID YOU GO TO?"

"P-PETER!" He cried.

Fontaines hand around mine yanked the knife out, throwing it to the floor. I sobbed and turned into Fontaine, burrowing into him. His arms came around me.

"Clean him up. We got what we need." Fontaine grunts, half dragging me out of the office. I was hysterical. I couldn't believe what I done, and to think what Johnny was going through now.

"You have to help me." I sob into his chest.

"I already have…" Fontaine says, trying to pry me off him without success. He sighs, before confessing "I knew they were taking him tonight." That got me off him

"WHAT!" I scream.

"Got the word from a guy that knows Stanley Poole. He turned him in."

"What!" I repeat, voice much lower.

"I got you to run round for me tonight to protect you…"

"YOU WHAT!" I yelled again. I didn't understand what I was hearing, I stumbled away from him, panicked.

"Charlie, calm down."

"NO! YOU TELL ME EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED!" I was against some wall, not even sure what part of the building I was in now, panting heavily.

"Ryan was going to get Johnny one way or another, and nobody was going to stop him. But he wasn't going to have you thrown in Persephone with him."

"Huh?" I breathe. My head was feeling light. I was still panting.

"What do you think, kid! He was gonna kill ya!" I shook my head. "You should be thanking me! I stuck my neck out for you!" Fontaine growls.

"no no no no no no" I pant. "You can fuck off…" I was losing vision.

"Charlie stop."

"Fuck…off" I try to push him away.

"Slow down, you're hyperventilating."

My knees were weak, the room was disappearing into darkness. "…Fuck….you" I breathed.


	15. Left Behind

Chapter 15: Left Behind

Slowly, I awake, stretching out, opening my crusty eyes. The bed felt cold, and I look around not only to see that Johnny wasn’t there, but I wasn’t home.  
Flashes of last night came to me, each one sending a nail into my chest.  
The man from the bar, Fontaine's anger, my home, blood on the couch, blood on the desk, flesh spilling out blood. I look at my hands. Dark blood embedded into my nails.  
“Ohhh God.” I cry. My stomach twists. Hearth aches. “Johnny…” I utter, wishing I could hold him. “Oh God, where is my Johnny?”  
I curled into a ball, sobs wreck my body. My head started pounding. I just wanted to shut the world out, pulling the blankets over me. I felt like I was dying.  
When the pain subsided a little, I crawled out of bed, hoping to figure out where I was. The room was moderate, about the same size as my one at home. Floor boards well polished, wallpaper with intricate patterns decorate the wall. A large set of chest and drawers made of dark wood provided a lot of space for belongings. A wardrobe stood on the other side of the room. Gingerly I walk up to look through them, but it’s all empty - aside from a mirror hanging on the inside of the door of the wardrobe.  
The room presented me with two doors. I tried one, but it was locked. The other one however led to a bathroom. Blue tiles on the floor and walls shimmered in the light, giving a cool tone to the room. Golden taps sparkled, and towels were neatly hung on the rails. Walking to the mirror over the sink, I saw a sad, timid girl, eyes red and puffy, skin sickly pale. What I saw didn’t come close to how I felt however, a hole in my chest still eating me away.  
After rinsing cool water on my face, and bringing some liveness back, I went back to the locked door. This must be the way out…but why is it locked.  
Pressing my ear to the door, I couldn’t hear anything. Through the key hole, there wasn’t much I could make out, except for more wooden floors.  
I knock lightly.  
Nothing  
This time again, but harder.  
“Hello?” I call out, voice hoarse. I noticed how dry my throat was.  
There was no answer.  
“HEY! Anyone there?” I try even louder.  
I wait.

Nothing. 

I didn’t know how to pick a lock, so I tried the next best thing. I take a few steps back, and lunge forward, slamming my shoulder hard against the wood. Repeating again and again. Each time, not feeling a second budge from the door.  
“Ugh!” I grunt. Shoulder jarring. “COME ON” I slam again, harder.

The door crunches, wood splintering.  
I give it one more slam, and the door cracks open, splinters falling to the floor, the door flinging open. 

Rubbing my shoulder, I walk out into a new room, and set out to explore. 

The place was huge. One apartment, and four floors. Several recreational rooms, a study, library, bar. It had me wondering who would live in such a place when I heard someone enter the apartment. I was currently in the study, across the platform from where the room I woke up in was. Looking around, I jumped behind a pillar, holding my breathe.  
The person in the apartment sighed heavily as they walked up the steps. I crane to listen. The steps continued passed the stairs and became distant. I shudder to think of their reaction when they see the door to the bedroom.  
“For fucks sake….” I heard a very distinct accent mutter before he shouts out, “Ki— uh — Charlie. Come on now.”

Fontaine.

I remain still. Unable to move as I was unsure where to go. Fontaine brought me here last night. I vaguely remember, but it felt more like a dream, only the absence of Johnny made it real. I guess he couldn’t just leave me on the floor in Fontaine Futuristics, but knowing I was in his home…felt intimate…and not in a good way.

I hear Fontaine move back around closer to the study. “I got news about ya Johnny.”  
My heart jumped, pulling me out, racing. I swallowed as I came into view of Fontaine.  
“What about him.”  
Fontaine looks down on me, expression unreadable. His gaze always made me feel exposed. I knew that right now, he could read everything on my face, despite me trying to put a strong one on.  
“He’s alive. For now. But there ain’t nothing I can do about it.” Johnny was in Persephone.  
I scowl crossing my arms. “Don’t you have people on the inside.”  
He shakes his head. “Not my department…but look ‘ere, we got to set things straight from last night.”  
I think for a moment, disregarding Fontaine's latter sentence. “Augustus. He wouldn’t have let this happen. Fuck Ryan, I’ll go find him.” I say, making a move to head downstairs, but a firm grip stops me.  
“Kid, that man doesn’t care.”  
“What? You clearly don’t know him. He got me out, he’ll get Johnny out.” I pull from his grip but fail.  
“Huh? What were you — you know what, never mind. But I’m telling you now, I got your best interest. Don’t go.”  
“No! You don’t know.” I turn away, tugging myself out of his grip.  
“Last chance, kid.” Fontaine threatens.  
“Augustus is my friend.” I call back firmly. Butterflies fill me. I wanted to run.  
“You don’t know a friend when you see one.”  
“Oh yea? I well I know friends don’t lock each other in some room.” I turn around one last time to see the man looking fed up and frustrated.  
“Well congratulations, kid. I ain’t your friend.”

*********************************

I march into Augustus’ office, despite his secretary’s insistence on making an appointment first. He was on the phone. I didn’t have time for that however, leaning over the desk and snatching it out of his grasp before he could even resister my presents, slamming it down on the receiver.  
I look back at him to see his mouth slightly open. “Get Johnny out. He didn’t do anything.”  
His brows furrow before frowning. “Johnny?” He questions.  
Rage filled me. “YES! JOHHNY! MY JOHNNY! He’s in your fucking Persephone and he needs to get out NOW!” I shout. I was so impatient. Heat was burning in my chest. A fire in my stomach.  
I don’t know if it was my anger, or perhaps he was genuinely surprised, but Augustus tone was soft and quiet as his says that he’ll make a few calls immediately.  
I stared him down for a little, taking one deep breath in, and took a seat to wait. He dialled a number, and waited for a response.  
After a brief conversation, there appeared to be more waiting. I huff. Augustus’ eye dart over to me, before looking away quickly.  
When someone picked up the line, there seems to be a problem. “Now hold on, that can’t be right, hold on…” he looked over to me to ask when Johnny was taken.  
“Would have been last night.”  
“…right yes, this man was brought in last night. Check again please…right. I’ll head on over myself…” he look at me again. “…shortly” and hangs up.  
“What?” I snap.  
“There doesn’t seem to be a Johnny there. But I am going over myself and I will look for him myself however…is there a chance he is anywhere else?”  
I thought for a moment. It was Fontaine that told me it was Persephone, but what if that wasn’t true…and the microphone…that was Ryan Industries technology…. “I don’t know… but….I look around…” I felt defeated.  
Augustus got up and approached me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry this is happening to you, but I will do everything I can to find him and get answers.” I look up at him. “Come on, chief. Don’t give up. Keep looking.” I nod. “I know he’s a pretty special guy to you.”  
That sentence almost broke my heart again. I get up and start to walk out. “Don’t ring the apartment. I’ll be back later today.”  
“What happened to the apartment?”  
“It’s bugged.” I say as I left the office, unsure where to go next, but decide to walk towards Ryan Industries.  
I enter a large glass tube as I neared my distinction, when I noticed a lack in presence of other people. The metal door at the end of the tube ascended, and as I stepped through, thick dark cloth covered my eyes, a damp rug shoved onto my face, and big heavy hands had me by the arms.  
I didn’t see a thing.  
I couldn’t concentrate, and I found myself once again losing consciousness.

***********************

The ceiling is white. The smell of disinfectant burns through my nostrils. There is a beeping coming from somewhere in the room. I turn me head, letting it fall to the side. I see a door, and a couple of chairs across the room. Beside me, a bright vibrant bouquet of flowers sat in a vase, it floral scene being almost undetectable. I wriggled up in my bed to see that soft blue blankets covered me, my feet as little bumps halfway down the bed.  
I reach over, to pick up a card beside the flowers when I noticed a long skinny tube from my arm run down and up to a bag, hanging behind the bed. Blue liquid dripping down and being delivered to my veins. Never seen a liquid like that. Poking the needle in my arm, I thought I would be in some kind of pain, but I was just relaxed. Fuzzy even. I noticed how fresh and flawless my skin even was. Like a child's skin. Soft, clean, bright, almost glowing.  
I looked back at the card, and finally reached out for it, reading its contents.

Dear Charlie, 

Hope they’re treating you well in there. 

Get well soon.

Gus.

Gus. I couldn’t quite figure out who the was for a moment, it was like having to wipe condensation off glass, but with a few moments, the image of the suited man came into my mind. Augustus…my boss. Of course.What happened to me…

I was roused out of my deep thought when a sharp knock came on the door, follow by it opening and a supposed doctor walks in.  
“Good to see you’re awake, Miss Sage.” The man is handsome, I cannot deny that, and he approaches the foot of the bed. “Had a few people quite alarmed after the incident in Adonis Spa…” He picks up the clipboard flicking through the notes. “How do you feel?”  
My mouth was open. I didn’t understand I thing he said. “…I’m… confused…”  
He looks up, expression full of sympathy. “I suppose you don’t remember the last couple of days?” I frown in response. The doctor sighs. “That’s understandable, and don’t want to strain yourself to remember. You had disappeared in Rapture, we don’t know exactly what you were doing, but we have a few links to you just roaming around between Ryan Amusements all the way to the Farmers Market on the other side of Rapture. The last place you were, was in ‘Adonis Pool and Spa’, where witnesses said you looked somewhat ‘dazed’. The lifeguard that took you in said you just walked into the pool and tried to keep walking, as if you didn’t realise you fall in…” I couldn’t comprehend. “…We have done a few tests… and have concluded you have a form of Alzheimer’s and it has been untreated for sometime.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “What is the last thing you remember, Miss Sage?”  
My mind was a bog. I was thinking and thinking and thinking, but it was like running in water. I squeeze my eyes shut, holding my breath, feeling like my face was going red.  
“It’s okay, Miss Sage. Don’t fret over it.” The doctors soothing voice interrupted. I sighed, feeling frustrated. Something in the cords of my heart pulled, and I didn’t know why. “Miss Sage, I have prescribed you medication, this will suppress any symptoms.”  
“Symptoms?”  
“Yes, this may range from memory loss, to phantom memories. You may feel confusion or experience in explanatory emotions. I will give you some sources to educate yourself, as this is a lot to take in right now, but, Miss Sage, everything is okay now. Everything else health wise is in tip top shape, your boss, Mr Sinclair has been in contact with the hospital and wants to make sure you a feeling 100% before coming back into work. The medication will help significantly, and if there are any problems, you be sure to contact us.” I nod slowly, still feeling overwhelmed. How can so much happen without me knowing. 

Later that day, I was given the all clear to go home. Augustus escorted me home on a private bathysphere, offering to make me a hot drink and settle in back home. My home was pristine. It normally was a very tidy place, but it felt off. Sinclair reminded me to take my pills. They small little red pills, the kind that had liquid on the inside. One for morning, one for night. 

That night my slumber was dreamless. All I saw and felt was blackness.


	16. First Times Again

Chapter 16: First Times Again

It had been several weeks since the incident, and though it was slow, I managed to integrate myself back into my work. I remembered how it all started, with me in a bar, working along side my employees, and I miss that. Paper work was far less enjoyable, but I make sure that every now and again I swing by and work along side everyone in each bar, just to see how it’s all going.   
I notice that there was other things I don’t remember, and that feeling of feeling like I’ve forgotten something important is a common occurrence.   
Jenny and I haven’t talked to each other in a while. We had a big argument over some guy named Johnny. It hurts to think about it. She claims I had a big relationship with him. Said we had something really special. But I don’t remember, no matter how hard I try. The thought of the man tugs at something in my chest. Sometimes I find myself lost in empty thoughts over it, sad, like I was mourning. Mourning the lost memories.   
Though it was a bit of a sore spot for us, Jenny finally accepted that I may never remember this person. I explained what the doctor had told me, and since then Jenny hasn’t brought it up, but the air between us remains tense.

Augustus has been wonderful. So supportive and understanding. On days I feel like I’m losing my mind, he plants me back into reality. My prescription was increased which also helped, and I like to have notes around my apartment, just in case I forget something important. When I told Gus about this, he brought me this beautiful leather notebook, suggested I write about my day like a diary, and so for the past several weeks I have. 

I recounted how business was going well, and all the places Gus had taken me. I noted the increase of ‘plasmid’ abilities. People could spark electricity from their finger tips, in a snap, one could be holding a ball of fire. It was like black magic, but Gus assured me it was all science. The other week for the first time, I saw this large metal man just outside of the city, welding away. I don’t know how long I spent watching it, but it fascinated me. Gus had also explain that to me. Maintenance workers, they were simply machines to repair and prevent leaks all around Rapture. Nevertheless, they still intrigued me. Such heavy, robust things… something were almost grotesque about them…Through the thick of the glass, you could barely hear a low sad moan. I didn’t understand why, but it made me so sad to hear that.

Tonight, I was to be taken out on another social event. With all the dinners and dancing lately, I wondered if Gus was perhaps trying to court me…. I blush at the thought as I tend to my hair and makeup.   
We reach the Kashmir restaurant. “Feels familiar.” I say nudging Gus, smiling up at him.   
“You don’t remember coming here for a business party?” I shake my head. “Well it must be nice to experience this all again for the first time.” I look around, agreeing silently, admiring the grand decor. I was a magnificent place.   
We sit at a table and talk for a while. A waiter flashed before us, balancing a golden tray of champagne in one hand, and a cloth draped over the other. I hadn’t seen that one yet and couldn’t help but marvel. “Champagne for the lady?”   
“Yes please!” I say. As soon as the waiter disappears in a blink, I turning the Gus. “Where are all these plasmids coming from? That was incredible!”  
“It’s all party tricks if you ask me…but… Fontaine is responsible for those.” Gus replies, sounding slightly bitter if I weren’t.  
“Fontaine…doesn’t ring a bell…I don’t think.” I frown.   
“Well, that’s the man up be-yonder” He nods behind me, to a man in at another table, in conversation with a few others. I noticed how his jaw clenched. “Where do you think you’re going?” Gus suddenly snaps, annoyance in his tone.  
I found myself standing without realising, “I think I would like to pick his brains a little.” I say, starting to turn away. Gus’ hand was on my wrist, his eye narrowed. “I don’t think Fontaine takes to kindly to little girls…”   
…little girls….something twitched in my brain. “Get off me. Jealousy isn’t a good like on you.” I sneer, pulling my arm away, and approaching the man.   
His dark eyes glance at me, then, as if I saved him from a boring conversation, he faces me. “Hello, dollface. What can I do you the pleasure.” His smile sinister. Yet again, dollface reminded me of something…I just don’t know what.  
“Yes, do you mind if I pick your brain for a bit.” I smile sweetly. “My name is Sage, Charlie Sage.”  
Fontaine glances at the table, before rising, smirk on his lips. “Name’s Frank Fontaine. Shall we.” He brings a large hand to the small of my back and leads me further into the room, among other dancing couples.   
Dizziness took hold of me, I paused to shake my head. “Is something the matter?”  
“No, no…just….deja vu” I smile. “Don’t worry about it.” He didn’t ask, but his eyes lingered. I couldn’t read them. Instead, I started light conversation.   
We talked about plasmids, and ADAM. I was so surprised by some of it. He expressed his concerns with the spreading market, with Andrew Ryan taking up the production of tonics to compete. All the things you could solve with ADAM. Thinking carefully, I smirk. “You know…If you don’t mind having a suggestion, I think I have an idea that might help you in the market.”   
“Hmmm”   
“Firstly, who are you targeting?”  
“…anybody that can afford it.”  
“Exactly! You would do far better, targeting the people who need it, and more importantly, the people that need people that’s got it.” Fontaine frowns a little and I continue. “You need to get in touch with companies and businesses, get them a contract that discounts certain plasmids that will better their employees for their jobs.”   
Fontaine grins. “Not a bad idea…that might just work…” He thinks the idea over a little before starting up again “…say, if you got more ideas like that, I could use you on my side.”  
I smile. “I’m flattered. But I owe it to Gus…Augustus, that I stay.”  
Frowning Fontaine asks “what could you owe a man like that?”  
I awkwardly chuckle, unsure how I wanted to explain this. “I…uh…he…helped me. A lot…”  
“Riiiight. And you haven’t done enough for him to make your own way now. I see how it is. Man sure got eyes for you.” He tone was…unimpressed.  
“It’s n-not l-like that.” I stuttered, insulted by what I think he was suggesting.  
“I’m sure…” Fontaine voice drips with sarcasm.   
“Hey….that’s not fair! I’ve been through a lot and Gus has been the only one to help me get through it” I let go of Fontaine, a march across the look to the look out point to catch a breath, leaning on the cool metal rail, staring into my reflection, the black sea beyond the glass. What Fontaine had said…did have me thinking…but I couldn’t betray Gus. It was clear Gus didn’t like Fontaine from earlier, and he knows exactly what I’ve been through. Helped me remember…or relearn things. I wouldn’t last without him holding my hand.   
I looked at my hands, faded ink marks from notes I had drawn reminded me of my little cognitive challenge. I sighed, feeling heavy. Tired from trying to remember. There were still gaps in my life.   
“Why don’t you tell me what’s up” Fontaine voice almost scared me. I look over at him, then back down to my hands. He approached, leaning on the rail beside me.   
“I have a form of Alzheimer’s…and sometimes I need help remembering. Okay.” I sigh and hang my head. Better he knows than think I’m crazy…unless Alzheimer's is considered a form of crazy.  
“I see.” Was all he said. After that, we just remained silent next to each other.   
There was no tension between us. After my confession, I started to feel better. I had been hiding this issue from everyone except Gus and Jenny, and Jenny half rejected me for it. Gus embraced me with open arms, and I guess since then I was so reliant on him, that I’d forgotten how to stand on my feet alone. Afraid of being further rejected. Fontaine doesn’t seem like the sort to care about me or my problem, which is why I almost choked when he asked his next question, “How about we go out for dinner tomorrow? I would love to pick your brain for a while…” he grins, and I wonder if he had more than dinner planned…  
But I smile, accept and had him write a note on my hand. 

************************  
The next evening, I found myself in ‘High Street’, looking for who someone I never heard of before. Following the directions on a note I transferred from my hand. I look around aimlessly. Anxiety started to build up and I realise I my never find this person, because of my stupid brain. Heat rose to my cheeks as I began to feel stress.  
“Miss, Sage?” A thick accent broke my thoughts.  
I turn quickly, to see a tall man with dark eyes. “Y-yes. I—umm— are you Mr Fontaine?”  
“Yes I am. We met last night. I wouldn’t be surprised if you don’t remember me, we only talked…briefly… Why don’t you a seat.”

*************************  
I am choking. I can’t breath. Everywhere around me is dark, I can’t move, and I’m lying down. My head pounds. My throat feels closed, and my stomach twists. 

I want to scream. I want to cry. 

But I can’t. 

I’m sweating, but I’m cold. I feel my clothes cling. 

Damp.

My limbs cramp up, and its a strain to look around.

Why is it so dark?

Pitch black.

Finally, I sob. I whimper, and the sound echos around me. But still I can’t form words.

Where am I? 

White.

White.

All I see is white.

It hurts.

Too much. 

It burns my eyes.

Footsteps echo above my head. Clipping the floor. Sounds like its metal. 

Still I can’t move. 

Above me, I see a pair of gloved hands, filling a needle up with a strange glowing fluid. It’s red.

I think I am screaming now. 

********************

I bolt upright. I’m home. All is quiet, and all is normal. My panting is the only thing I can hear.   
I lower my feet to the floor, and take a moment, before opening the drawer to the beside cabinet, shakily taking out my medication, tapping three of the little red pills out on my hand.   
I paused for a moment something in my gut telling me something I did not understand.   
The pills…red…glowing? No, its just the light… I tip my head back and swallow. 

“Just a dream.” I sighed. 

Just a dream…


	17. Jigsaw Puzzle

Authors Note:

Don’t know how I feel about where this is going. This chapter packs in a bit more though, feel like the story was going too slow, before, is this pace better?

Chapter 17: Jigsaw Puzzle

“JUNE!” I yelled, choking. 

“JUNE!” My heart sank, and a wave of nausea hit me. I couldn’t believe it. 

I stood up from the dining table, abandoning the newspaper. It was getting hot in here. Deep breaths did little to calm me. It was June, 14th, 1955, and Doctor Sofia Lamb was the front cover of the papers, with the words DETAINED capitalised. What was happening?  
This wasn’t the first time I had lost a day of my memory, but this wasn’t just one or two days. This was a whole month. Shocked and stunned, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what I had done or who I was with. I didn’t know who to contact. Running my hand through my hair, pacing around the room, I turned to recall something from the past I could remember. Gus had mentioned I would disappear sometimes, and thought maybe I should live with someone. Even suggesting I moved in with him. At the time, I thought this was him making a move on me, but now I see that I may not be capable to living alone.   
I stopped pacing at the thought of that. My muscles relaxed, not from relief, but from a deep heavy feeling. A dread… or a shame, that my condition was finally defining me. How long until that is all people will see. How long until I forget the simple, trivial things, like my name, or where I was, or who other people were. My eyes prickled. I think perhaps a tear had rolled down my face, but on the outside, my skin, my body, I felt numb and fuzzy. On the inside, it was like my stomach was concrete, or a marble. Dense, and weighed my down. My knees buckled, but I remained standing. 

In the back of my mind, I remember something. Not exactly the event itself, but the writing down of an event. I turn to my bedroom, and rummage through drawers, throwing clothes out of the way, scavenging desperately for something I wasn’t sure was real. Heat rose to my cheeks, and I huffed every time I reach the bottom of a drawer, finding nothing, and slamming it shut. I moved to the wardrobe, and still nothing. I was on my hands and knees, slapping my hands onto the floor boards, dragging my feet behind me and still I couldn’t find anything. Then, I thought came into my mind. I went to the bed, and felt under the mattress. Working my way around the bed I was about to give up, when my hands hit a hard surface. Trembling hands slipped out with a dark leather notebook. 

I swallowed, hesitating for a moment, only to snap back into a panic, flicking through pages of scribbly notes, catching a few words before moving onto the next entry. I noticed that entries were daily for a couple of weeks, and then they began to spread out. I stopped when I noticed what I thought to be the answer. A name I didn’t recognise. Fontaine.   
I back up, and read the first mention of him. It was a dinner, in High Street, a few months ago now. I wrote about how he spoke with a strong bronx accent, how harsh his dialect was, but despite this he was surprisingly gentlemanly. He offered me a job to work along side him, part-time, so I would still work for Gus. I had accepted, but wrote no more about it.   
Another entry talks about visiting the fisheries. I talked at length about how familiar the place had been, and how little it surprised me to see smuggled goods all over the place, and reading that seemed to ring a bell.   
One more entry scared me. I was taken to a make-shift lab behind ‘Joe’s Green Groceries’. I wrote about the smell. Like nothing I had smelled before. And now, as I sit on my knees among my clothes alone in my room, I could smell what I couldn’t describe. There had been a corpse in the bath. I was told that this was Ryan’s doing, and in order to help the people, we needed a certain man to come in, so they could question them. It felt wrong and I didn’t understand, but for some reason, I was able to do it. The entry stopped there, but I could sense what had followed. I shuddered to think how I brought death onto someone. How could anyone do that. How could I do that.   
After that particular entry, there was no more mention of Fontaine, and only a few more entries proceeded before they ceased all together. But one this stood out. Each entry with Fontaine, acted like I had never met the man before. This only made me wonder who Fontaine really was. And he had to know, he just had to know about my memory loss…and has been using it.   
My head started to spin. The more I thought about the situation, the more confused I got. I had so many questions, but unsure how to answer them. 

I looked around at the mess I had made, and thought it was perhaps a good idea to tidy up. Maybe a tidy space will help clear the mind

____________________________________________  
I walked through the market, running some errands. I saw how empty the fridge and pantry was, so my plans were to restock it. However, there isn’t much one person needs in an apartment, and I knew I was finding any excuse to place a veil of normality over my eyes after my recent discoveries. Every time I thought too much about it, I got dizzy.   
Little things that occurred during my outing, like the cute butcher boy who flirted with me, and the smell of freshly baked bread, felt surreal. The scene around me too perfect to fit into the puzzle that was my mind. Too peaceful, where inside I felt a war within myself. 

After unpacking the groceries, I had the urge to call Jenny. It didn’t matter what she would think, my dignity was as far as I was aware, gone. It was selfish of me, but I put confining to her above her safety. I can’t trust anyone anymore, except Jenny, even if telling her everything I know puts her at risk. I need a friend. A real friend. And I wasn’t sure who was anymore.

I wondered if seeing her and her place was better, and as I stood outside her door, ready to knock, I couldn’t help but shiver nervously. I felt like eyes were on me, but after a quick turn around, I found nothing. I guess I’m just spooked. 

Jenny was looking good. Jewels dangles off her ears, nails freshly manicured, even her teeth seemed to sparkle. Her apartment more luxurious than the last time. She’d been very busy being the star of the stage, and didn’t let her new found fortune go to waste. But despite the setting, the frown on her face showed how tired and worried she had become. I smiled weakly. “Its been a while…”  
“Yeah. It has.” She sounded unimpressed, but after a moment, her shoulders relaxed, and she sighed. “But I am happy to see you. Was worried about what was happening to you. You have been so distant.”  
It was true. I’m not sure if I remember the last time we talked. But that may also be the Alzheimer’s. “I’m sorry…But I’m here to tell you everything I remember…and everything I know.” 

It was like jumping into a pool of cold water. You don’t want to move as every inch of you goes numb quickly, but with strength and will power, you move each of your limbs, and push yourself through the water. Slowly, it become easier to move. Your body adjusts to its surroundings, and you find yourself much more comfortable than how you started jumping in. Thats how it felt explaining everything to Jenny, from the day at the hospital, to Augustus’ movements. The fact that I don’t remember most things anymore, but the strange feelings I sometimes get like deja vu. The diary. I brought it with me, and handed it to her. She flicked through the pages, her expression turning dark as she reached the last few entries. It was a little scary to watch.   
After a long silence of Jenny processing, so finally spoke with a very calm voice. “I don’t think you have Alzheimer’s, Charlie. You should stop taking the medication.”  
“Huh?” I was surprise, but as we sat together on the couch, it sort of started to make sense. “Who would do that?”  
“I don’t know, but the same time you “had your accident”, Johnny disappeared.” And there was that name again. I felt a deep pang in my chest, but couldn’t recall why.   
“…tell me about Johnny” I ask slowly. She hadn’t mentioned again since the last when that ‘conversation’ didn’t end so nicely. Unfortunately I still remember that conversation.  
Jenny told me how we met, how she and her friends ‘set us up’. We were together for only a few short months, but looked like we had been together for years. Our favourite place together was a secret spot in Arcadia, Johnny would always brag about me around other women who flirted with him, and despite being a bit of a cowboy jokester, he was a gentleman, who looked after me very well. “I think with him, you were the happiest you’d ever been.” My chest twisted at that. I begin to miss him so much, even though I still don’t remember him.   
“Where could he be?”  
“I don’t know…” Jenny sighs. “Maybe if you stay tonight, and wait for your meds to run out of your system, things will come back?”  
“I hope so…but what if I’ve lost those memories forever? What if I never find out.” That knot in my chest tightened as I panicked.  
“No use in worrying about it now. Focus on what you can do.” Jenny got up and went to her room. I watched her return with a notebook and pen. “Anything you do remember, write it down.”  
I stared at it for a moment, before nodding. “Since when did you become the rational one?”

________________________________________  
That night was a rough one. I would wake up covered in sweat, shivering, eyes meeting the darkness of night every-time. The dreams were feverish. So realistic and lucid, but twisted. I couldn’t tell if they were memories or if they were some sick twisted creation. Poor Jenny beside me was up and awake with me each time, asking me about the dreams, helping me write them down, before falling back asleep.   
I tried to piece together what was happening, but I couldn’t. One dream was of a little girl, kicking and screaming. I held her arms, and despite her efforts, she could not tear away from my grasp. Something was off with her. Perhaps it was her grey complexion. Maybe the feral look she had with her torn filthy dress and matted hair. Was it me or someone next to me that knocked her out I wasn’t sure, it was too fast and too dark to tell. She was limp in my arms.   
Another dream was strange and blurry, but I was watching this figure move around in front of me. I think it was an erotic dancer. I couldn’t see her face. I moved to turn away but instead found myself sitting on the side of a bed, “…you could sell it you know; I got a contact.” Was that me talking? It couldn’t be, my voice was wrong.   
“But if Mr Ryan found out…” other woman said. She was crying.  
“Mr Ryan won’t know.” What were they talking about?  
The next thing I could see was a man pace in front of me, dresses in white clinical attire. He held a clipboard. “Would you kindly cut yourself.” His accent was strange, but too distant to really get a good listen. I looked down to see a knife in my hands. Without thinking about it, I gripped the knife in the fist of one hand, and slowly pressed the tip into the palm of my hand. The the prick of the knife brought me pain so real. Blood started to spill out from where the knife was pressing. I threw the knife to the floor. It clattered loudly.  
“NO” I shouted, before falling through the floor.  
“Test failed.” I heard the doctor say. His words echoing around me. 

Test failed?

__________________________________________  
It was finally over, but I was still confused. I was aware of some events that had taken place, but names and faces were still fuzzy. Many important pieces to the puzzle were still missing. Jenny and I tried to figure it out over breakfast.   
“Okay, so we still don’t know what happened to Johnny…but whoever took your memories away is a doctor…” Jenny starts.  
“Good job Sherlock, I don’t think many other people would be capable of such a procedure. There has to be about a hundred doctors in Rapture.”  
“But this doctor must be working for a private research facility. And if it has to do with Johnnys disappearance, they have to have power and money.”  
“Okay… like…who?”   
“I got three people in mind. Ryan, Fontaine, Sinclair” Jenny states, holding up one finger for each person.  
I thought about this, trying to conjure up something. “Sinclair…tried to help me find Johnny…I..think Johnny…” I could remember snippets of him, but nothing solid yet. It was still more like a dream than a memory. “I think Ryan didn’t like Johnny…well, I can’t really recall… but I got a feeling they weren’t buddies of any sort.”  
“And what about Fontaine.”  
“Yea, I remember a bit more about him. I can’t think of any associations of him and Johnny though.”  
“What about the things you did for him? What was that all about.”“He’s planning something big. Something to do with plasmids and ADAM. And….little girls?”  
“There’s the ‘Little Sister Orphanage’ he opened a few months ago!”   
“Maybe we should check it out…?”   
Jenny shook her head. “I can’t, I have rehearsals all day…but if you want to go alone?”  
“Hmmm…maybe it’ll look suspicious. What if I run into people I have history with. There is still a lot I don’t remember.”  
“Give it a few days. I’m sure it will come back with time. But what about Sinclair, you could investigate him without it looking suspecting.”  
“Right…maybe I can have him slip up, after all, he might have already said something, but I just don’t remember.”

________________________________________  
I walked into Sinclair’s office, plastering a smile on my face when I saw him. “Good morning, Mr Sinclair!”  
“Mr Sinclair? Why so formal? You don’t come in for a while and approach me like a stranger?” Sinclair questions, rising an eyebrow. I swallow, remembering now that for the passed while I had been calling him Gus.   
“No…no…just wanted to see how you were doing?”  
“How I’m doing? I’m doing just dandy…How are you, haven’t seen you for quite a while, Charlie. Everything alright?”  
“I’m good, just lost track of time. But I was thinking…I don’t actually remember how we met.”  
“You don’t? Well that was quite some time again now. Well over a year. I believe we ran into each other at a bar. You were dressed to the nines, and I was looking for a manager to hire. Had a bit to drink, but still manage to make the right decision when I hired you.”  
‘Ran into each other’ that part sounded right…but not with him. “Hmmm that doesn’t seem right…I don’t know what it is…but I think we met somewhere else…” I press my luck. If I can get him to change his answer, then he definitely is hiding something.   
“Hmmm…” He thought.  
“Yea, it wasn’t a bar.” I say more certain.  
“Perhaps you’re right. I guess I’m just getting old.” Sinclair laughs it off. I join in, thinking bingo. “Anyway, why does it matter?”“I guess it doesn’t.” I smile. “Just like to know how I got to where I am with the best boss in Rapture.” I choose to grease him up.   
“Well, I am a pretty kind boss. But only cause I hire the best.” 

The conversation didn’t go anywhere after that, and I found myself walking around aimlessly around some back streets of Rapture, where all the plumping and heating pipes were. I stopped when I felt the ground vibrate beneath me. The pipes around me rattled with each stomp, and around the corner, a massively large, metal figure slowly turned. The ‘maintenance worker’ reached up with one hand, and other being a welding tool, and starting to work on some pipes the was squirting out steam. A deep groan escaped as it clamped a metal hand over the leak. Could it feel the heat?  
Suddenly I felt dizzy and stumbled. When I looked up, a large man beside me, who I could see crystal clear, stood with his arms folded. Fontaine. I knew it. He didn’t look impressed. When I looked where he was looking, I noticed we were in an observation room, and beyond the glass, was another maintenance worker, expect instead of a welder attached to its arm, it had a drill, and it was coated in blood. On the wall, more blood had been smothered on to it, but below the stain, I gasped when I saw a mangle body of a child. Her abdomen was shredded, and dress saturated in her own blood. Her hair still dripping. “Can’t get them to bond.” Fontaine spits with venom.  
I wanted to yell at him. But I didn’t. I found myself saying, “its eyes are red. Do you know who the subject is?”  
“Just another lost cause from Persephone. A nobody now.” He presses a button which appears to be an intercom. “Pull the plug, Suchong, and go again with a new girl.” 

When I turn to look at the metal monster, I was back in the alley of pipes, and the maintenance worker no longer had a drill on his arm, but a welding tool, and was finished with its job, slowly walking away, one heavy foot at a time.   
Persephone. Now that rings a bell.


End file.
